


The College Series

by HannibalsAngel



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Multi, NSFW, One Shot Collection, Porn With Plot, Series, Smut, Teacher!Dallon, Teacher-Student Relationship, Ugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 44,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4746209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalsAngel/pseuds/HannibalsAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots that (somewhat) go together to make a continuous story flow. Each ship has 10 chapters. (And you don't have to read them all!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stuck (Pete/Patrick)

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to read all of the one shots, but they somehow intertwine in some way to make it flow so it's not totally random. Each chapter is a different one shot.

Patrick’s class had finally ended and he was walking back to his dorm. It was around 7pm and the sun already had set about an hour ago, so he paced to his dorm, when he heard someone calling for him. “The short guy in the hat!”  
      Curious but cautious (it was friday night, people were already drunk) he walked towards the guy calling for him. He walked to the neighboring dorm and stood in the light, looking around, but he wasn’t in sight. “Over here! By the far left door!”  
      He slowly walked passed the giant Elm and seen a pants-less guy with his head between the poles of the railing. “Thank god help me out!”  
      Patrick tried not to laugh too loudly, but he couldn’t help it. This pink haired guy with no pants, combat boots, and a really dirty white shirt had his head stuck between the posts of the handrail. Patrick laid his books on the steps, and in between breaths spoke; “how did this happen?”  
      The guy tried to look up at him, “stop laughing it hurts!” Patrick laughed even more as he began to look for some sort of leeway. He noticed his neck was red and possibly swollen. “Do you know how to get me out?”  
      “Have you tried calling the fire department?”  
      “Are you kidding me? They’ll laugh hysterically and take pictures to show their friends or something!”  
      Patrick couldn’t help but to giggle, “and you think I won’t?”  
      “Nah, you’re wearing a fedora and you look adorable.”  
      Patrick stopped laughing and both were silent. It was extremely awkward. ‘Shit is he flirting with me? What is this?’  
      “I mean, like not in a weird way,” he began to explain, “it’s just, you know, got a cute face, or something.”  
      Patrick nodded, “so the fire department?”  
      “Yeah the assholes who took my pants didn’t wanna steal my phone because ‘theft is wrong’ so they dropped it and my wallet right at the bottom and buried it under a pile of leaves.” He pointed to the leaf pile and sure enough, his phone and wallet were there, covered in groggy mist of the soggy leaves. Patrick wiped his phone on his pants and turned it on to see if it still worked, just when the victim of railing hostage yelled, “don’t turn it on!”  
      He shouldn’t have turned it on. The background was a picture of another guy, wearing some yellow contraption that was held down by his dick.  
      Patrick immediately turned off the phone and buried his face in his hands. "What was that?"  
      The guy laughed nervously, "we were, uh, drinking and I told him to put it on and he said only if I make it my phone background."  
      Patrick looked at him through his fingers, "who are you?"  
      "I'm Pete." He flashed a confident smile and Patrick laughed. "Who are you?"  
      "Patrick," he spoke from the palm of his hand. He removed his hands from his red face and smiled at Pete. "Are you on drugs now?"  
      Pete awkwardly laughed, "no not really."  
      "How did you end up like this?"  
      "If you remove me I'll tell you."

      Patrick looked at his watch, "fair enough."  
      They both sat there for a minute, thinking of their next move. Patrick looked up at the navy sky, "the stars are completely visible tonight."  
      "Are the stars telling you a way to get me out? Because I can't feel my face."  
      He laughed, "probably not, and that is definitely not good. It looks like your head is swelling."  
     Pete tried looking up at him. Horrified, he asked "is that possible?"  
     Patrick pulled out his phone and texted a few people. After a few minutes he put his phone back into his pocket - "not particularly. Your brain can swell, but in this case, no it won't."  
     Pete slowly dropped to his knees, his skin hitting the cement. "I just wanna go to sleep."  
     "Did you try pulling yourself out?"  
      "Obviously! That didn't work, and Brendon, my friend, decided to throw me anal lube, which was embarrassing and didn't work."  
      Patrick laughed, "you put ass lube around your head!"  
      "Sure, laugh at my misfortunes. You know, the bottle was heavily used. There was almost nothing in there."  
      Patrick laughed and aired out his head from his hat. He put his hat back on and stood up.  
      "Where are you going?"  
      "Just hold on."  
      Patrick went behind Pete, "turn your body sideways."  
      "Sideways?"  
      He looked at his physique. His chest didn't puff out too much and his arms were built so he could hold himself up. "Yeah. Where's the lube?"  
      He pointed and the bottle had just a little left. "I'll try to make this work. Take off your shirt."  
      "Why? What're you doing?"  
      "Just do it. I know how to get you out."  
      Pete pulled his arms in the sleeves and the shirt hung from his neck. "I'm gonna rip your shirt okay?"  
      Without an 'okay' from Pete, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it all the way down to his legs. The cheaply made shirt was ripped almost in half and fell into the damp soil.  
      He opened the lube and poured the remaining contents on his stomach, chest and his neck. It didn't completely cover, but it pretty much was enough, at least Patrick thought.  
      "Turn your body - go sideways."  
      Pete awkwardly moved his body to the side. Patrick tried to lift him, but failed. "So, uh, try to pull your entire body through."  
      "What!" Pete tried to look at him, "are you crazy! I won't fit."  
      "Yes you will just do it. I think I can lift your legs."  
      He picked up his legs for a brief moment, "we need to move fast before the lube dries."  
      Pete slid his arms through the same opening his head was in and pushed the railing as Patrick picked up his legs and pushed. With a bit of force, and profanity, he managed to slip his body through. He scraped his elbows on the concrete and lied on the top of the steps.  
      Patrick went back to the staircase to grab his books when he seen his body in it's entirety. It was red and glistening with ass lube, with his arm lied across his chest. There was a tattoo that went around his neck, and one under his bellybutton, which was partly covered by his underwear. His eyes were opened and he breathed heavily. Patrick looked down to his legs and, not only did he catch himself staring, Pete interrupted him.  
      "What?"  
      Pete smiled, "you like what you see?"  
      "Oh, um," Patrick's face burned with embarrassment and he tried to cover his face with his hat. "I, uh, sorry, I didn't know I was-"  
      "It's cool, man, I'm just fucking with you. Unless you do like what you see, then I can fuck you."  
      Patrick buried his face in his hands to hide his red face. Pete stood up, proud and half naked. He looked at his bloody elbows, "you got bandaids though?"  
      "Uh, yeah, up in my dorm."

Pete sat on the couch and looked around the dorm room. "Pretty nerdy. Ghost Buster shit all over the place."  
      Patrick smiled, "and what's around your room?"  
      Pete laughed full bodily, "we're not talking about me though."  
      "You probably have Lord of the Rings shit covering your wall."  
      He scoffed, "well you're not wrong."  
      Patrick sat down next to him with a wet cloth and began dabbing the scrapes. "Well, you don't need bandaids, for one, the bleeding stopped."  
      Pete watched Patrick's hand push against his elbow, wincing at the pressure. Patrick took the cloth to the bathroom sink, and the room was quiet for a long while. Pete awkwardly looked around, playing with his fingers. Patrick returned and stood in the door frame with his hands deep in his pockets, "so, does it feel any better?"  
      Pete shrugged, "kinda. It stings though." The silence was threatening to return, so Pete continued, "so I guess I'll be going."  
      "Yeah, it's pretty late and you have no pants, so-"  
      "Yeah." Pete stood up and opened the door.  
      "Wait!"  
      He turned around, "yeah?"  
      Patrick ran to his room and threw a pair of sweatpants at him, "I think you should take these. I'm sure it's against school rules to walk around campus with no pants."  
      Pete held the sweatpants in his hand and scoffed, "yeah probably." He put them on and they were kind of tight, which made Patrick giggle. "So, I guess I'll return these before I rip them in half?"  
      Patrick laughed, "yeah I guess. I mean, you can keep them if you want."  
      "Ah, no thanks," Pete smiled, "I have enough pairs of pants." He walked out into the hallway and waved at Patrick, "see you 'round?"  
      He grinned, "oh wait! You didn't tell me how you got your head stuck."  
      Pete nodded, "next time I see you I'll tell you. It's a really long story."  
      "Sure." He waved back at him and he left.

He walked back to his dorm, opened the door and fell back into the hallway. "Brendon, why?!"  
      Brendon's partner zipped up his pants and ran out the room, leaving him on his knees. He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck, "come on, man he was so close!"  
      Pete slowly walked back into his room, "why didn't you tell me you had someone coming over? I seen his pale reflector ass!"  
      Brendon laughed and grabbed a beer from the mini fridge, "he did have a bright pale ass." He sat in the beanbag chair, "so how'd you get out?"  
      "Some guy helped me. Also, go fuck yourself, where's my pants?"  
      Brendon's finger tapped the top of the can, "not sure. I think I gave them to some random kid."  
      "Seriously?"  
      "Yeah, I just gave them to him. He asked me why, and I told him to keep 'em."  
      Pete took a beer and sat on his bed, "I liked those pants, you know."  
      Bren swallowed, "I don't know his name, but he lives off campus. He’s got black shoulder length hair, covered in tattoos, and a really sweet looking face, but he looks like he can kick some punk's ass."  
      Pete put the beer on the nightstand and lied in his bed, "I don't even know what classes he takes."  
      “I’m sorry?”  
      “The guy who helped me. I don’t know what classes he takes, or even his dorm number! I went to his goddamn dorm and-”  
      Brendon stood up, “don’t worry, I got you. You got his name?”  
      Pete sat up and looked at him, “what are you gonna do?”  
      “I got people who know people who can get into the school’s server. Give me their name and I can tell you what classes he takes and what dorm he’s in.”  
      “Well, he lives in the dorm building next to us.”  
      “Even better! What’s the kid’s name?”  
      Pete tapped his knee, wondering why exactly these kids needed to get into the school’s server, and how. He looked up at his roommate, who was more than happy to help.  
      He sighed, “Patrick.”


	2. Work of Art (Frank/Gerard)

Frank rushed across campus. He woke up late, but luckily his apartment was just a few blocks away. He ran blindly until he ran into a tall broad figure. He dropped his art stuff and the guy helped him pick it up. He looked up to thank him and the stranger, who was carrying a pair of jeans, smiled. “No problem! Hey, here’s a pair of pants for your troubles.”

      He handed the jeans to him, “what? Why? They’re still warm.”

      “It’s okay, just take them, wash them, burn them, do whatever. Just take them. Frank was already too late to argue with him, so he took the jeans and ran to class.

      Frank had slipped in the classroom just before the door shut. He dropped into a seat and fixed his easel. He set his little station like he always did; pencils and other tools in use on the right along with erasers and blending stumps, and tools not being used on the floor on the left. His professor set her stuff on her desk, “for the past week, I brought in models of different ethnicities and origins. This week, however, you’ll be faced with a caucasian model. He is a volunteer, so if you are faced with group projects, you are allowed to make him your partner.” Frank straightened his back as he prepared to see, yet another, nude model. He’s always had nude models, but seeing certain male models made him feel insecure, or other things. Nevertheless, he’d push those thoughts away because class time was definitely not the time to be thinking like that, especially about a model.

      The robed model flamboyantly walked to the mini stage in the center of the circle. He looked at Frank and flashed a smile. It seemed as if the model was teasing him, because his robe slowly fell to the ground. Every inch of his pale skin was slowly revealed until he was bare. Frank felt his face get hot, so he hid behind his drawing pad and began to recreate the model. The professor motioned the model to pose, so doing as he was told, he dropped his head to his shoulder, looking directly at Frank, which made him uneasy. He then put his hands behind his neck and pulled an coy smile.

      Frank hid behind his book as he worked, occasionally looking up to study the model. He never made eye contact with him, but it seemed as if the model wanted him to notice his presence more than just a naked guy. The model wanted Frank to notice him as a plaything, someone he can call whenever he's having a bad day. The time passed grudgingly, and just as he was finishing the remaining details of the luscious bright red hair, he moved to finish detailing his body. He looked up at the model; thank god he wasn't in front of him. He blushed as he looked down to his thighs, seeing part of his genitals. His face grew hot and he heard a breath of laughter. He looked up and the model was quietly laughing. Frank sighed and pretended to not see his 'whole' body.

      Class lasted a lot longer than Frank had hoped. His professor asked them to leave their work with her, and he complied, hoping the redhead would never see his work.

Outside the class, in the empty halls, Frank paced to the front door. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard someone from behind, "wait up!"

      He turned around and it was the nameless model (though not knowing the naked person's name wasn't new). He swallowed hard as he jogged towards him, stopping just in front of him. "What's your name?"

      Frank shyly looked at his feet and told him his name. The model lifted Frank's chin and looked menacingly in his eyes, "I want you to look at me when you're speaking to me. Understand?"

      Frank pushed his hand away from his face, “listen mother fucker, I’m from New Jersey, and-” The model began walking away from him. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

      He chased after him and when he caught up, he grabbed onto the redheads arm. Surprisingly, the model was a lot stronger than he looked, and he pushed Frank up against the wall, held his wrists above his head and heavily breathed, “listen mother fucker, I have no time for foreplay. Take my goddamn address and meet me when you stop fucking around.” He shoved a paper in his front pocket and stared right into Frank’s eyes, “understand?”

      Frank knew he couldn’t fight him; this guy was taller and obviously stronger. He managed to pull his arms down, and the model smiled. In an instant, the stranger pecked Frank’s lips, tousled his hair and practically skipped out the building, leaving Frank confused and angry.

He ran across campus and flew through the doors of his building. He closed his apartment door and leaned against it. He threw the random pair of jeans on his couch and pulled out the receipt from his pocket. He unfolded it and lo and behold there was an address. He read the address a million times before being caught by his roommate. "Whatcha got there?"

      Frank shoved the paper in his pocket, "nothing. It was a note from, uh, some student in my class."

      His roommate nodded and found the jeans, "who's are these?"

      "Some guy with a large forehead gave ‘em to me. Told me to do whatever I want with it."

      His roommate carefully picked it up, "do you think it's haunted?"

      Frank laughed at the idea of demonic pants, "probably not. Maybe it's infested with bedbugs."

      He dropped them is disgust, "gross. So what do we do with them? I'm most certainly not wearing them ever. They're ugly."

      Frank dropped onto the couch, "write your name on them and hang them on the campus flag. I mean, how many 'Ryan's do you think go there?"

      He laughed, "true." He picked them up and grabbed whiteout. He wrote Ryan, with a backward R, on one leg and 'rules' on the other. He laid it out straight to dry, when he noticed Frank was a bit off. "What happened?"

      "What?"

      "What happened in class? You're acting different."

      Frank shrugged and looked at Ryan, who truly was not interested in hearing his story. He sighed and told him anyway. At the sound of menacing model, Ryan was fully interested in what he had to say. "So he gave you his address?"

      "An address. I don't know if I'm gonna go ever."

      "You should go just to see where it leads you. It sounds like he wants to do the do with you." Ryan smirked and raised his brows, which made Frank laugh.

      "I don't understand why, out of all the kids in class, he picks to screw around with me."

      Ryan spun on the computer chair, "maybe he likes ragingly gay inexperienced tattooed emo kids."

      "I am experienced Ryan. It's just I haven't found someone to have sex with."

      "Virgin status."

      "Selectively sexually active. And when’s the last time you had sex?”

      Ryan puffed out his chest, “I’m a virgin, by choice.I haven’t found the right dude yet.”

      Frank scoffed, “well, I’m not sure what this guy wants from me. I mean, he could be a murderer-”

      “Or a horny psychopath who escaped the asylum!”

      “Or,” Frank sighed as he lied down on the couch, “someone who is just desperate enough to sleep with me.”

      “Dude, I just said that!”


	3. Actual Dorks (Andy/Joe)

Joe rushed into the comic book store and groaned as he seen the amount of people crowding the building. Tickets for the release of Star Wars were being sold and he wanted to be one of the first couple hundred people to see it. He looked at the line and found the end. It was pretty far back, and he was stressing to get closer; the company only had a limited number of tickets. He sat on the floor and the guy in front of him looked back at him and smiled, "I hope this movie isn't a bust."

      "Same. The trailer looked good though, and Phasma is played by Christie-"

      "Game of Thrones, right?"

      "Yup." Joe smiled and stood back up, wanting to continue the conversation. The guy was adorable. His eyes were big and full of energy, he was covered in artistic tattoos and his voice definitely didn’t fit his look. He looked like he could stab a man and laugh, but his voice proved that he would probably cry if he seen a stray cat. "This movie is gonna be epic."

      He smiled, "it will. Hey, I'm going to see it with a friend of mine, wanna meet up?"

      Hallelujah, Joe though. "Sure! And after party at my place if it rocks?"

      "Or a pity party if it sucks. Either way, I'm coming!"

      Joe put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. He wanted to ask for his name and number but didn't know how to word it correctly. "So, how do I reach you?"

      He laughed, "giving you my name and number would would definitely help. Pull out your phone." Joe handed him his phone as he handed his, and they put their info in the contacts. "Alrighty, looks like we're all set. I'm Andy, by the way." Joe raised his shoulders, "Joe."

      They talked for hours about comics and things of nerd culture. The line began to move fast. Andy had bought two tickets, which meant that he bought the last of them. The girl behind the counter announced that the tickets were sold out and Joe wanted to drown himself. Andy looked at him legitimately saddened, "that sucks, man. I wish I could help-"

      "Yeah," Joe sighed, "but there's nothing that can be done. I'll try to sneak in or something."

      Andy smiled, "keep the party planned, man."

      Joe laughed, "definitely." They said goodbye and went their separate ways.  

 

Almost 4 weeks later, the movie was due to release in a few hours. Andy and Joe had been texting back and fourth since the night they met, and it's safe to say they're really close. Joe showed up in line with Andy despite being ticket-less. Andy's friend had been waiting in line all day because he didn't have any classes that day or the next; neither of them did. Andy introduced them to each other, "Pete, this is Joe."

      "The guy with no ticket. How do expect to get in? Nice meeting you, by the way."

      Joe shrugged, "I've done it many times, and," he pulls out a ticket for a different movie, "I'm a pro." Pete and Andy looked at him impressed.

      They all converse about the movie, it's actors and actresses and the afterparty. Joe looks at the line in front of him and sees an usher checking tickets. "Alright so here's how it's gonna go; they'll see that it's the wrong movie so they'll tell me to go inside the theater. Then from there, I'll non conspicuously wait in the hallway of the Star Wars premiere room. Then, when everybody is rushing in, I'll join the crowd. Easy."

      Pete nodded in approval, "but wait. What if there's no seats for you?"

      "No, there will be because I'll be in there with the crowd."

      "Okay but why do all that when you can just get hooked up by Brendon?"

      "I don't know who that is." Pete turns around and points at the usher, "he's a friend of mine I'm sure he'll let you in."

      "I dunno," Andy added, "he could lose his job."

      Pete waved his hand, "nah! Not possible. He's done some weird shit and I'm even surprised he's not fired yet. Man, he let me in so many times. Well, I did have to suck him off in the bathroom, but still, I got in a lot.”

      Joe shrugged, “nah man it’s cool. I’ll stick with the plan.”

      The usher came to them and Pete grabbed his shoulder, “Brendon, this is my boy Joe - let him in.”

      “He doesn’t have a ticket?”

      “Nope.”

      “How were you gonna get in?”

      “Long story.” The conversation returned to Pete, “let him in and I’ll make it up to you at his after party tonight.”

      Brendon looked around, “I could lose this job, so I’m in.” He continued down the massive line and within minutes, the line was escorted into the theater.

 

They all sat next to each other; Andy in between Pete and Joe, and Brendon made his way to Pete’s lap. He slouched so he wouldn’t block the people behind them. Joe leaned forward to face Brendon and Pete, “hey man, thanks for hooking me up. I seriously can’t thank you enough.”

      “Nah, man” Pete began, “it’s cool. We’re friends now so it’s on me. And besides, you’re providing the afterparty, with booze, right?.”

      "What's a party without booze?"

      "Nice!"

      The lights grew dim and the teasers for upcoming films boomed and flashed in bits of minutes. Finally, the movie began and both Andy and Joe sat up with their full attention, preparing themselves. Throughout the movie, they exchanged glances of excitement and awe. Hours later, the movie ended and they (along with, it seemed like the whole campus) swarmed to the dorm party hall.

 

The room was filled with much more people than the fire marshal permitted, but everyone was drunk and no one gave a shit. Andy and Joe stood near the window, filled to the brim with darkness, with Pete, Frank, Brendon and Gerard. They all held drinks in their hands, except Gerard who politely declined, and stood in a circle, trying to talk over the loud music and drunken idiots. They discussed the movie as if they all hadn’t just seen it, reminiscing.

      “I think I owe all of you a smoke,” Joe patted Andy’s shoulder. The group agreed, but Andy declined. “I dunno about a smoke, but we can just chill.”

      “Definitely, anyone else?” Brendon hung off Pete’s shoulder, “actually, someone owes me something, so we’ll have to pass on that.” Pete awkwardly laughed and dismissed them both. Gerard and Frank escorted themselves to the couch, where someone was reenacting a scene (so badly, it was actual entertainment).

      At the other end of the party room, Andy watched Joe take a shot of Red Bull and drop it in a cup of Jagermeister. The drink turned dark and he slid it to Andy, “a Jager Bomb. This is all hype all day.” Andy pushed the drink back to him, "sorry man, I don't drink." 

"Sorry, I didn't know."

"Nah it's cool. People look at me and think I drink on the regular, but nope! Straightedge vegan."

      Joe took the drink back and held it by the base, "I don't know much about that stuff but you could definitely teach me." Joe raised the cup, “can't let this go to waste though; to Valhalla." He threw it back and almost choked it back up. He pounded his chest with his fist to keep it down, “I’m going to die.” Andy laughed and patted his back, "well I'd definitely like to tell you all about it. Wanna make it a date?"

Joe looked at him wide eyed with a grin, "yeah totally."

Andy was about to say something, but he began smelling the stench of pot. He covered his nose and grabbed his coat, “I think I’m gonna get going.”

      “Really? I thought we were having fun.”

      “The smell is too much, but call me though!”

      Joe shrugged, “okay, but do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

      “No thanks, I’m part of crossfit.”

      He waved at Joe and slipped out the door. The smell was in fact unbearable, but that's only because he wasn’t even tipsy. He turned to his party, and from Pete’s lap, Brendon yelled, “get over here you afro-headed freak!” Joe obliged and slumped into the couch. The damp blunt was passed to him and he took a deep whiff of it, thinking about Andy. He thought about his too-sweet voice for his heavily tattooed and bearded appearance. He thought it was cute. He really thought about him and officially deemed himself in love, to which Brendon pulled himself from Pete’s lips to voice his opinion, “man, he doesn’t like weed, and you smell like weed. Tomorrow, go get him. Go chase your man, bro. Chase him.” He returned his attention to Pete and Joe thought about it. He actually gave him usable advice. Tomorrow, he’s gonna find Andy and tell him exactly how he feels. And then he passed out.

      He woke up to the sound of shuffling. People were leaving the party room with a massive hangover, and the sun didn’t even rise. He squinted and found the clock, 2:30. He looked around; Brendon was fumbling and was clearly uncomfortable on top of Pete. He dropped his head back and passed out.

      He woke up again at noon, Brendon was on the other couch, awake, staring at the ceiling. “Brendon?”

      “Hmm?”

      He slowly sat up, waking his bones, “come on, let’s go.” He nudged Pete, “come on, buddy, let’s get up.”

      Pete slowly stretched and winced in pain, “fuck! My leg!” He grabbed his leg, “fucking Charlie’s Horse.”

      Joe let out a ‘hah’ and reached forward, his arms grasping the air to help him stand up. Gerard and Frank weren’t there, and they were the few who actually were, so they grouped up and walked back to their rooms.

 

Joe crashed in his bed and dropped his phone to the floor. He missed a text from Andy, but his eyes were too blurry to focus. He moaned and shoved his face in his pillow; his crusade for Andy must wait until tomorrow.


	4. The Jump (Pete/Patrick)

Pete woke up to the ringing of his alarm clock. He slammed the snooze, allowing himself just a few more minutes. The time flew almost instantly; the alarm went off again. He turned it off and slowly rose from the warmth of his blanket. The October air was too frigid. He lazily opened his door and sluggishly walked to the bathroom. Before him was a nude Brendon, about to get in the shower. “Mornin’ sunshine.”  
      Pete stretched and with a flick of his wrist, waved at him. He got in the shower and began singing (which wasn’t really a problem - he was good). Pete began brushing his teeth, mindlessly, until Bren called out from behind the curtain, “you gonna join me or am I going solo this morning?” Pete spit, “no can do, bro. I gotta find Patrick, take him on a spontaneous date or something. Did you go through his files?”  
      “Yes sir I did. He’s got some bullshit acting class early in the AM, in the art hall. Run for him, Pete, pick him up and raise him to the heavens, sacrifice him, man.”  
      Pete laughed, “I’m opening the window.”  
      “Please god no it’s fucking cold!”  
      Pete opened the window on the wall adjacent to the shower - too far for an arms reach. “Love you Brendon!”  
      “Everything’s hard!”

Pete ran through the campus, crunchy leaves making a ruckus as he rushed through the grounds. Autumn’s getting colder each year, and it’s only mid October. He rushed inside the art hall and ran up the few flights of stairs. He found the classroom and peeked inside, searching for a fedora-clad imp. He looked in the front of the class - people were already acting; it’s too fucking early for this. The actors were both pale and very comfortable with each other. He searched the audience and didn’t find him. He turned away and sat on the floor. He texted Brendon, but he answered with a dick pic. He decided to wait out the class.  
      Pete didn’t have classes that day or the next, so he sat outside the classroom and waited for an hour and a half, falling in and out of sleep - practice for an upcoming, unplanned event. The door opened up with a creak, and he immediately stood up, looking through the line of students, hoping to find Patrick. A fedora rushed out and Pete knew it was him. “Hey! Wait up!”  
      Patrick turned and smiled in surprise, “Pete! It’s great to see you. How did you know I took acting?”  
      Pete quickly avoided the question, “I didn’t see you in class when I peeped in. I didn’t see your hat.”  
      Patrick laughed and began walking, “yeah I had an acting project with a friend of mine. I had to be in character.”  
      Pete awkwardly laughed, “makes sense. You got a class after this?”  
      Patrick puled out a hard copy of his schedule, “um, yeah. Two hours of sociology, but then the rest of the day free.”  
      “So I guess we’re gonna chill? If you want, of course.”  
      Patrick smiled, “yeah I’m down.”

They walked and talked until Patrick reached his sociology class - “So you’re gonna wait here?”  
      Pete looked around the dull, excruciatingly boring hallway. The walls were grey and held little spots of paintings, probably scavenged from the art class garbage. “Yeah, I guess I can chill here for a bit” he nodded.  
      Patrick smiled and walked into class, and those two hours were hell. Two hours of quietness, two hours of loneliness, two hours of torture. It was as if time had stopped completely, and the walls were tormenting him, laughing at him. He was dead, buried centuries ago, living as a spirit. He was being dramatic.  
      Time returned when the gust of voices appeared suddenly, and all the students were leaving the class - he survived the two hours without complication. He seen Patrick and spontaneously spun him around to face him. Everyone’s feet dragged except his. Patrick was disgustingly happy all the time, even 9 in the goddamn morning, and that made Pete’s heart heavy for him even more.  
      “You got all day, Patrick, where do you wanna go?”  
      Patrick began walking down the hallway, and Pete followed him like a lost puppy. He shrugged, “somewhere I never went before, to do something I’ve never done before, completely legal though.”  
      Pete smiled mischievously, “I know exactly where to go.”

Pete led him to his dorm, but entered the labyrinth of doors, staircases and hallways. “Pete, where are you taking me?”  
      “Somewhere cool, legal, and it’s something to do.” He grabbed Patrick’s hand and dragged him through the stairwell. They walked up a few more stairs and right at the top was a heavy metal door with a huge sign that read ‘do not enter’. “Pete, I don’t -”  
      “Patrick calm down dude. I got this.”  
      Patrick rolled his eyes and climbed the last few stairs. Pete pushed the heavy, wide metal door open and a burst of sunlight beamed into Patrick’s face. The sun wasn’t enough to warm him in the 9 AM air, but the fact that Patrick was with Pete for some reason made him warm. He squinted his eyes and blindly followed Pete.  
      When his eyes focused, he seen nothing but sky and the clock tower. They were on the roof. “Pete -”  
      “You see that other building? The neighboring dorm house?” He pointed to the roof right next to them, just separated by an alley a few feet wide. “Yeah, what about it?”  
      “I’m gonna jump it. And you get to watch me do it!”  
      Patrick took a moment to comprehend and realize that what his declaration was no joke. “Wh- no!”  
      “Yeah! Don’t worry, Brendon did it completely shit faced, like on the verge of passing out drunk. Crazy party, gotta tell you later, but I think I can do it sober.”  
      “Pete no! What if you miss?!”  
      “But what if I don’t? I’ll be the second legend, because let’s be real, Brendon did it drunk and that’s pretty fucking amazing. But still, the publicity! Professors would pass me for the rest of my life!”  
      “Pete,” Patrick hung his hand off the collar of his shirt, “Pete, but what if you fall?” His voice was quiet and clearly filled with worry, so Pete turned to face him. “Patrick, I promise I’ll make it. Have I ever broken a promise?”  
      “Pete we met yesterday.”  
      He put his hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry. If I miss, which I won’t, but if somehow I manage to miss, the sides of the roof and the wall have ridges, big enough to put my foot in, so I can climb up. Dude, they built the dorm houses like that so we can jump them.”  
      “Pete no they didn’t.”  
      “It’s gonna be fine, watch.”  
      Patrick stood back a few feet and watched Pete attentively. Pete moved to the other end of the roof, “please don’t do it Pete.”  
      Pete waved Patrick away and went for it. He ran as fast as he could and kicked off right at the ledge. He felt like he was flying in slow motion. His foot missed the other ledge by a hair and his shoe scraped against the jagged stone wall as gravity became real again. His arms slammed against the ledge and he held himself up 10 floors. “Holy shit!” Patrick yelled and panicked as Pete tried to swing his leg high enough to put his dangling foot in the ridge. “Holy shit!”  
      Patrick ran down the millions of flights of stairs and when he reached outside, he looked up to see if Pete was still there - he was. He sighed a short breath and slammed the neighbor’s doors open. He ran frantically through the halls until he bumped into another frantic guy - “help me Pete’s hanging off the roof!”  
      “Wh-Pete? Goddammit -” The guy followed Patrick up to the roof and they both pulled him up. Pete fell on his back and Patrick dropped to his knees and climbed on top of Pete - “are you hurt? Did you break a rib or something? Jesus Christ you almost died! Your hands are bleeding!” Patrick’s hands moved quickly and frantically over Pete’s torso, looking for any ‘too-squishy’ parts and to find aches and pains. He was on the verge of tears and he pushed his fingers against his body. Pete grabbed Patrick’s restless hands, and they shook in his palms. Patrick’s eyes were shiny and misty and he breathed heavily. “I’m fine,” Pete whispered.  
      A nod and a breathy ‘okay’ came from Patrick and he slowly stood up and helped Pete up as well. They turn to, Patrick finally noticed, Brendon, who was pacing back and forth and looking off into the campus horizon. “You okay?”  
      “Uh,” he held his hands behind his head and looked at them, then back at the scene, then back at them, “uh, yeah, it’s just, whatever, are you okay?”  
      “Yeah, and also,” he turned to Patrick, who was red, sweaty and still misty eyed, “I told you I would make it across.”  
      Patrick awkwardly and playfully punched Pete in the shoulder, “shut up. You scared me half to death.”  
      Pete awkwardly smiled, “and thanks, Brendon.” Brendon was on the phone and waved them goodbye. To make up for the trauma Patrick had to go through, Pete took him to a cafe and shared macaroons.

“You know, I’ve never had these,” Pete said as he waved the little cookie.  
      Patrick laughed, “yeah, the chocolate ones are the best.” Patrick took the pink one from Pete and replaced it with a chocolate macaroon. Pete put his lips to it and took a small bite. “Wow, that’s a lot of chocolate.”  
      Patrick laughed quietly and poked at the other macaroons. Pete put the cookie down and put his hand over his, “hey, I’m sorry for, y’know, giving you a heart attack today.”  
      “Oh, no, it’s fine, I do enjoy heart attacks. It really, ah, wakes the nerves.”  
      Pete looked down at the crumb covered table and broke a few tiny bits, “you were really worried though, like, more than Ryan was when Frank went commando in the gym on April Fools’ Day.”  
      Patrick giggled at the thought, “I guess I care a lot.”

Pete took Patrick back to his dorm room right after lunch, "I gotta wait in line to get line tickets for Fallout. Want me to get you one?"  
      "No thanks, I don’t play a lot of video games."  
      Pete shyly smiled, "well, when you do wanna play, call me."  
      They stood there quietly, both awkwardly rocking back and forth on their heels. Pete looked up at Patrick and laughed a little, making him laugh a bit too. "I'm sorry."  
      Patrick's smile faded and he looked at him, "I told you it’s-"  
      Pete breathed out and leaned himself on him. He kissed Patrick like his life depended on it. He pushed him with a force that lightly held him against the wall. The kiss was everything Patrick didn't think it would be. It wasn't rough, and there was no teeth or tongue involved. It wasn't rushed or harsh, it wasn't what Patrick thought Pete was. It was much more better. More intimate, more beautiful. He loved every single second of it.  
      Pete slowly pulled away from him and whispered, "sorry."  
      Patrick smiled and put his hand on Pete's chest, "don't worry about it."  
      Pete smiled and and walked back a step or two and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So I, uh, guess we're dating now?"  
      Patrick laughed, "I mean, if you're cool with that, then yeah."  
      "Yeah I'm cool with that."

Pete stood in line for the game tickets. He thought about Patrick the whole time; the way he laughed, the way he worried way too much, that fucking hat. He felt like the kiss wasn’t what Patrick wanted. He felt that he wanted it to be romantic - at the end of a fantastic, intimate date, somewhere secluded and it was just them two alone. Somewhere where Patrick loved but didn’t think he’d ever go. Somewhere Patrick went when he’s pondering about his existence. Somewhere Patrick had a deep connection to, and the hallway of his dorm with people sitting and chatting wasn’t exactly that. ‘Next time’, Pete thought.  
      Pete sat on the floor and planned their next date. The doors opened and the line scurried inside as if that was going to make time go faster. Pete noticed the people walk in - one lady, mid forties maybe, with a tattoo of a Stormtrooper on her thigh, walked in pissed. These kids, no more than eighteen, walked in disappointed, held a mini meeting, then left. But this one guy, with an insanely voluminous afro and tattooed sleeves, walked in, exhausted but determined. He looked at the line and sighed, but hope didn’t leave him. He trucked himself to the back and that was the end of him.  
      Pete’s phone buzzed - Brendon found Patrick’s number. He was tempted to keep it and text him, but he ruled against it. He wanted Patrick to give him his number, and he was ready to wait. Wait to die, wait to live, wait for an absolution that would never come. Pete laughed at himself for remembering the lines from Titanic. He is who he is, and he hoped Patrick would love him just as much as he loves who he is. ‘Of course he would, have you seen that precious face of his? He’s too small to have one hateful bone in his body.’

The time passed, and his internal monologue kept him busy, most of it being kicked around by that one short guy in the fedora who pulled him out of a fence.


	5. Midnight Shift (Brendon/Spencer)

Brendon worked the graveyard shift at the movie theater. It was around ten and he was ready to go home. He worked the box office while his co worker went on break. He was behind concessions earlier, but he kept flirting with customers and making sexual innuendoes around kids, so his boss put him behind the booth. Although he continued to flirt with literally everyone he seen, his boss couldn’t hear him do it. He would argue that it wasn’t really flirting because he knew these people wanted nothing to do with him, and he didn’t want anything to do with them either.  
      Brendon leaned his head on his hand and continued lazily drumming and humming nothing in particular. He entered a trance as the galaxy screensaver took him on a whole new planet.  
      A guy tapped the window, scaring him out of his trance. "Hey, are you too busy?"  
      Brendon smiled, "sorry, man.”  
      “It’s cool, and that drum solo was pretty good, considering you only have one pen.”  
      Brendon laughed, “thanks, but I don’t really try; whatever I’m in the mood for I’ll satisfy that.”  
      “That makes the two of us.” He winked and Bren straightened his back, “did you just try to flirt with me?”  
      “Depends, wanna go out?”  
      “I don’t do long term relationships.”  
      He smiled, “then it doesn’t have to be a ‘date’. It can be just me having an evening out with you, if you’re down.”  
      Brendon stared at him and put the pen up to his mouth, “and where would this night end?”  
      The guy leaned on the counter and slyly smiled, “wherever you want it to end.”  
      Brendon smiled and shyly played with the pen, “and I am expected to know how this night would end, right? Such plans and I don’t even know your name.”  
      “Does it matter?”  
      “Only if you wanna see me again.”  
      “And why would I wanna see you again? I thought you don’t do long term relationships.”  
      Brendon smirked and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact, "because whatever you’re in the mood for, I am too."  
      "What if what I'm in the mood for is something you can't provide?"  
      "That won't be a problem."  
       The blue eyed man lifted his smile to one side, "and how can you ensure that?"  
      "Because I'm the greatest at what I do."  
      "Is that so?"  
      "You'll never find anyone better than me."  
      "And what is it that you do?"  
      Brendon leaned back, prompting him to do the same. He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, "everything."

Brendon took him inside and led him to the break room. The guy stopped, "I can't be in there, it's trespassing."  
      Brendon looked over his shoulder as he typed the code, "that won't be a problem - there's only one bathroom and four guys on the floor, and you just passed two, and looking at number three."  
      "Where's number four?"  
      The lock opened and he pushed the heavy door in, "getting drunk in the parking lot."  
      "Just me and you?"  
      Bren pushed him in the bathroom, "it's just me and you."  
      He smirked and when Brendon locked the door he pushed him against it and threw his lips against his. Without missing a second, Bren put his arms on his shoulders and kissed him back. It was rough and sloppy, and drool bridged between them when his partner slowly moved away. "You don't even know my name."  
      Brendon pulled his hair, "I don't care."  
      He smiled and started to kiss Brendon's neck. He moaned and arched his back, his leg uncontrollably curling around his legs. He bit his lip as hard as he could to quiet the moans but it didn't work.  
      Blue Eyes bit the curve of his neck and unbuttoned his red vest and dress shirt. He kissed down his chest and lightly bit Brendon's nipple. Brendon grabbed on to his hair even harder, "fuck."  
      He lazily kissed back up to his jaw and leaned his forehead against his to catch his breath. "Show me everything you can do," he whispered breathily.  
      Brendon smiled and pushed him off of him and put him against the wall. He got to his knees and pulled down his pants. He took the hem of his underwear in his teeth and slowly pulled them down, uncovering his hard cock. He took it in the palm of his hands and began jerking him off.  
      Blue Eyes dropped his head back and laced his fingers in Bren's thick hair.  
      Without hesitation, he put him in his mouth and dragged his fingers down his clothed chest, pulling on his shirt, popping a few stitches. His partner swatted his hands away and lifted the shirt over his head and threw it on the sink. Brendon deep throated him and hacked on his own spit and pre cum. It dripped down his chin with every cough and pooled on the disorientated tiles.  
      Blue Eyes pulled Brendon off of him and held his head back. Drool put a clear film over Brendon's chin. He stood him back up and looked at him right in the eyes. Those blues were going to be the death of him.  
      Without a word he turned him over and put him over the counter. "I don't have a condom."  
      Brendon let out a lazy 'hah', "the pocket on the left side of my vest."  
      He awkwardly rummaged through the piled clothes as Brendon watched him over his shoulder. He picked it up and lo and behold, miraculously, a condom. Brendon smiled and lifted his hips up.  
      "I may hurt you."  
      "The day I'm hurt and not like it while getting fucked will be my last day on earth."  
      He laughed and grabbed his jeans and underwear. He didn't even unbutton them, and roughly pulled them down, leaving coarse scratches down Brendon's thighs. He lightly slapped his ass and Bren threw his head back and smiled. He slapped him again harder and he let out a small moan. “Quit being such a tease.”  
      He smiled and grabbed his hip in one hand. He leaned over him and kissed the back of his neck, and with the other hand, put his cock inside him. Brendon moaned from under his closed lips and looked for something he could grab onto, which was the faucet. He closed his eyes and waited for him to start thrusting into him.  
      He pulled out and in a few times until he got used to him. Both hands dug into his hips as he began thrusting fast and hard. With every thrust, Brendon got louder. Brendon's forehead dropped on the mirror and he breathed each moan on the glass, his whole body being pushed against the counter.  
      With every push, Blue Eyes would pull Brendon towards him, and he began to break sweat. Every pull was stronger than the last until Bren was almost screaming. Brendon let out a loud, but deep moan that seemed to leave a strain on his throat, his cum dripped on the fallen shirt.  
      His partner leaned himself against his back and bit whatever skin he could get between his teeth. As he came, he slowly lifted Bren from the counter. He let go of him and sucked the place he broke skin. He backed up against the wall and tried desperately to get air.  
      The bathroom had gotten hot and muggy due to its small size, so Brendon opened the door slightly to get some sort of air flowing. They both were a hot mess; panting and sweating, Brendon bleeding a little.  
      "Spencer."  
      Brendon looked back at him as he buttoned up his shirt, "what?"  
      "My name is Spencer."  
      Bren looked down and sighed.  
      "If I'm taking in all of this right," Spencer put on his wet shirt, "you're disappointed. Sorry?"  
      Bren smiled, "it's nothing really. I just don't want to know the names of the people I'm seeing one night only. It saves the whole 'in-love-never-stop-thinking-about-you' bullshit."  
      "Well, our sex doesn't only have to last one night."  
      Brendon pulled up his pants and buttoned them, looking curiously at him, "what do you mean?"  
      "I mean," he fixed his pants, "we could just keep our relationship to just fuck buddies. You know, friends with benefits type shit. And also because you only showed me one of this things you can do."  
      "Oh so you're just my booty call?"  
      Spencer laughed, "no, you're my booty call. Either way, out relationship is just strictly sex and chill."  
      "Sex and chill."  
      "Sex and chill. And even better," Spencer added, "we can still bang other people. We can even date other people, so we won't go through that love story type shit."  
      Brendon nodded and led him back out to the lobby, "sounds pretty cool to me."  
      "Awesome." They exchanged numbers and said their final see ya later. Brendon watched Spence poker face his way out of the theater, as if he didn't just ram himself inside some guy he had met an hour ago.  
   
Brendon walked back to his dorm. His door was locked and Pete was sleeping. He sat on the floor, lifted his knees to his chest and tried to sleep. He heard a little laugh and looked back up. His neighbor Ryan was opening his own door as he watched Brendon make a fool of himself. "Locked out?"  
      He stood up, "yeah, my roommate's asleep."  
      "Let me see if I can get you in."  
      Ryan took out a stray bobby pin from his pocket and wedged it between the door and wall. He pushed a few times and the door actually opened, but not all the way. The door chain abruptly stopped the door, "well, that's unfortunate."  
      Bren laughed, "shit where'd you learn to open doors like that?"  
      "Sometimes even your favorite class is boring."  
      "And why do you carry bobby pins with you? You’re hair is short."  
      Completely ignoring the question, Ryan continued, "well, you either gotta climb through the window or break the chain."  
      "I'll take the latter." Bren held the chain and with one swift, hard tug ripped it right off the wall. "Thanks," he trailed off his sentence so Ryan can finish - "Ryan. My name's Ryan. I lived next to you for two semesters, me and Frank."  
      "Yeah I'm sorry I'm not good with names, just faces." Lie.  
      "Yeah, no it's cool.” Another one. “Well, goodnight."  
      "Night."  
      Bren watched Ryan as he awkwardly slipped into his room as quiet as a mouse. "Ryan," he whispered, and walked into his own room. He fell on his bed and pulled the blankets over him.  
      "Ryan."


	6. Booze, Drugs and Lost Kisses (Frank/Gerard)

   
      Frank slowly opened his eyes and stretched, his hands pushing the wall behind him. His body woke up and relaxed in an instant. He stared at the ceiling mindlessly. Ryan, on the other hand, was not okay. He was fidgeting in place and shaking his leg. "Ry?"  
      Ryan looked over at him and looked back at the door. He rubbed the back of his neck and dragged his hands down his face. “Ryan, what’s up?”  
      “I, uh, he - Brendon. He was locked outside his room and he didn’t even know my name. I mean, we’ve been neighbors for two semesters, and he’s said hi to me everyday, I don't understand."  
      Frank slowly rose and waddled to the couch, “don’t worry about it, Ryan, people do that. He doesn’t know your name but he may have a nickname for you, which is good enough.”  
      “It’s probably a bad nickname. He thinks I’m -”  
      “Annoying? Sometimes, but that’s human nature. We’re all annoying, it’s just some of us aren’t as annoying as other people.” He propped his feet on the table and reached for his phone. He got a few texts from Brendon and Patrick and he read them as Ryan vented.  
      "He think's I'm annoying. I don't know how I've been annoying all I said to him was 'hi', Frank, 'hi'. I don't under-"  
      “Ryan cut it out. You’re not annoying, or at least you won’t be in class, which you should get to.”  
      Ryan grudgingly stood up and dragged his feet to the door, “let’s hope I don’t annoy the professor, maybe that’s why I’m on the verge of failing his class.”  
      Frank patted Ryan’s shoulder and handed his notebook to him. He dragged himself out of the dorm. Frank sighed a breath of relief and re-read the texts. Brendon asked him about his Halloween plans and Patrick sent pictures of the script their acting teacher assigned.  
      Halloween was in a few days and he had nothing Halloween related - he was too busy preparing his stomach for his birthday. He was "gonna get so fucked up the president would send his regards", Pete put it. He didn't intend on doing too much that night; he was getting drunk anyways.  
   
He got to class a few minutes late, but the teacher wasn't even there yet. He looked at the clock, if his teacher was late for fifteen minutes, he was allowed to leave the class, which he intended on doing.  
      He sat the second row to the back and tapped his pens against the wooden table in between encouraging texts to Ryan, which abruptly ended when the door opened. Frank thought it was his professor, but it wasn't. Only Gerard.  
      He rolled his eyes and sighed. This guy was going to drive him insane.  
      Gerard walked to the coincidentally empty chair behind Frank. Frank braced himself for the annoyance to come, which did come, but it wasn't annoying to say the very least.  
      Gerard twirled his finger in the hair on the back of his head. It sent shivers - the good kind of shivers - down his spine. It wasn't until Gerard began tugging his hair when Frank turned around, "can you stop?"  
      Gerard smiled, "but you like it."  
      "No, I don't."  
      "Yes you do."  
      Frank turned around and scribbled on the cover of his notebook, trying to ignore the tugs of his hair. Gee moved from behind him to sit a seat away from him. Frank looked through the corner of his eyes; Gerard was asking his seated neighbor to switch seats. Taken away by the five, he moved and Gerard sat next to him. 'To hell with that' Frank said to himself as he shoved his pencils in his pockets and stood up, then stopped when the professor walked through the door. He sighed and dropped back into his seat. He heard a quiet giggle come from Gerard but he ignored it.  
      "Sorry I was late class; car broke down not too far from campus." The English professor trailed off into lesson, and Gee began to shift in his seat. He put his arm around Frank as the professor wrote notes on the board, receiving a few muffled laughs from the neighboring students. He pushed his arm off of him and glared at him, emitting a smirk from him.  
      Frank began writing the notes when Gee swatted the pen, making a line of ink run across his page. Frank breathed out heavily and rubbed his eyes. He took his pen again and continued writing.  
      Half way though the class, the professor assigned in-class projects, pairing students with their neighbors. Frank rolled his eyes, which made Gerard smile. He looked over at him and with a loud whisper, "you don't even have this class!"  
      "Nope, but Brendon paid me to fill in for him. I hear he's had a long night."  
      "Do you even know what we're doing?"  
      Gerard picked up the assignment paper and stared at it for a few moments. Annoyed, Frank puts his hands behind his neck, "I'll take that as a no. Sit tight, I'll do the entire thing. It's not like Brendon helped me with it anyway, but I actually like his company."  
      Gerard flung the paper behind him, "that's cool." He leaned his head on his hand, "I like it when you work. Your thinking face is cute."  
      Frank awkwardly shot a smirk and got to work.  
      The last twenty minutes of class was used to say the speeches prepared. A few students read their speeches, then came Frank's turn.  
      He prepared his voice for the minute speech, then began. A few sentences in, he felt warmness creep on his knee. He swatted the hand, but it returned on his thigh and he stopped mid sentence.  
      His professor looked at him puzzlingly, "you okay Frank?"  
      Frank nodded and continued, managing to get to the conclusion. His hand returned on his crotch. Frank began stuttering through his work. He tried to swat him away but he grabbed onto him, making him stop again.  
      Frank tried to focus on finishing the last sentence as Gerard rubbed him in all the right places. His leg dragged over the other, trapping his hand in between his legs. His hand was still able to move, which was a problem because now he only rubbed him harder.  
      On the last sentence, Gee rubbed him faster and his leg hit the table and he slowly bowed his head toward the table. Before his professor could ask, he finished his speech with one last breath, but Gerard never stopped.  
      He dropped his head on the table and bit into his arm to keep quiet. His jaw released his arm and with nothing but a heavy breath and an extremely quiet moan, he came.  
      Gee's hand moved away, leaving him panting quietly, red faced on the table. Gerard's hand ran over his back, heavy and slow. He entwined his fingers through his long, hot hair, lightly pulling it with each stroke. Head on table, out of breath, Frank realized he lost his sense of freedom. Gerard was controlling him now, and he wasn't sure if it was a bad thing.  
      After class, the two walked out and, as Frank predicted, Gerard took him to the alley in between the two largest dorm houses, which were to be jumped.  
      He pushed Frank against the wall and pulled on his shirt, "have you ever came in public?"  
      Almost as if he was drunk, he raised his brow, "like jacked off on a park bench or something?"  
      Gerard laughed, "no, like in class. No one knows what you're up to, and the thrill of the possibility of getting caught doing things to yourself." He dragged his hand down his crotch and cupped him, "I live off of that."  
      Frank bit his lip - he had no idea what he had gotten himself into. "What if," he put his hand over Gerard's and removed it from his crotch, "you were doing that, and someone caught you?"  
      He smiled, "I'd cum even harder. I love an audience."  
      Frank couldn't help but to laugh a bit, which was fine because Gerard was too. "I've never heard of such a thing."  
      He pushed his body against Frank's and kissed him, "you're about to learn - exhibitionism."  
      Frank took a deep breath as Gerard slowly dropped to his knees. He licked his lips, remembering how soft Gerard's lips were on his, and got excited thinking about how soft they'll be wrapped around him. Frank grabbed on to Gerard's fiery red hair when he felt his warm breath on him.  
      He hadn't realized his pants were down to his ankles but that was the least of his worries. He forgot he was standing behind an outdoor heating system, with his cock in some guy's mouth. His mind raced around what he had said - exhibitionism.  
      He wasn't too sure of the idea of it, but he couldn't complain. Gerard's lips wrapped around him proved to be the only thing that mattered. Frank got more and more lost as he bobbed his head, taking in every inch of him.  
      This wasn't his first time, because his tongue worked around him in such a way his knees got weak. Frank pulled Gerard's hair and groaned loudly. His profanity echoed in the alley. Arched back, bent knees, head rolling on old brick and hands lost in red, Frank was a mess. It felt like forever; his mouth hung open, releasing the words Gerard seem to love too much.  
      Gerard sucked the tip of his cock and he moved his head away from him, throwing Frank all over the place. Frank pulled Gee's hair so hard, he squealed a bit. He put him in his mouth again and his cock hit the back of his throat.  
      Frank stood straight for a second, completely paralyzed, mouth hung open, eyes shut tight, releasing the most loudest moan Gerard's ever heard. He came on Gerard's jaw and neck and released his hair.  
      He panted and sweated, like he’d just ran a marathon. Gee pulled his pants up and looped the belt. Frank felt his sweaty hand run over his shoulder and curled to the back of his neck. He slowly opened his eyes and Gerard was only inches away, so he shot at him.  
      He pushed his lips so hard against Gee's their teeth made immediate contact, making Gerard pull away in pain. "Sorry," Frank breathed on his cum soaked chin.  
      Gerard smiled and pulled his hair hard, making his head drop back. Gerard kissed his neck and dragged his teeth down to the curve of it. He bit into his skin and Frank grabbed onto his shoulders. Gee moved back and whispered, "I'm gonna be a vampire for Halloween it seems."  
      Frank smirked, "I guess I'm your victim."  
      Gerard laughed, "anything special needed for my 'victim'?"  
      "Well Halloween is my birthday."  
      Gerard pulled up his shirt and wiped away the cum from his face and neck, "the birthday package. That costs extra you know."  
      Frank smiled, "put it on my tab."

That night, Frank dropped his bag on the couch and jumped right onto his bed. The beds in the dorm were on both side walls, leaving the living room right in the middle and the fire escape right behind the couch. Ryan was sitting on his bed, working on his homework - "long day?"  
      Frank rolled over and laughed, "you have no idea the day I had."  
      Ryan smirked, "I can only imagine. Hey, what're you doing for the Halloween-birthday thing?"  
      Frank closed his eyes and seen nothing but lines and strokes of red, "something new."  
      Ryan looked at him confused, "I'm not sure what that means, and there's good reason you didn't say, so I don't wanna know. In other news, I will be hanging up the pants flag on Halloween."  
      "Why," he sat up, "why can't you do it tomorrow?"  
      "Because every student on and off campus will be a suspect. It's the perfect defacement!"  
      Frank raised a brow, "don't get too excited you might end up putting a sticky note on someone's car mirror."  
      “Very funny, Frank, but if I were to put a sticky note on someone’s car, I’d cover the whole thing in sticky notes.”  
      Frank rolled his eyes, “so you gonna dress up for Halloween? It’s this weekend and I see no plans being made.”  
      Ryan shrugged, “I dunno, probably. Are you?”  
      Frank sighed and lied down on his bed, “I have a feeling I’m gonna be forced to, but I don’t know what I’m dressing up as.”  
      “Wanna take a walk to the Halloween store that opened up a few blocks from here?”

After two agonizing hours, they came home and threw their bags on their beds. Frank felt his phone buzz; Pete texted him - ‘doing anything for spring break?’  
      Frank dropped his head and texted him back - ‘don’t talk about spring break. Lets get thru thanksgiving first.’ He slid his phone back into his pocket and emptied the bags.  
      He hung his ‘costume’ on the doorknob of his closet and threw the fake blood on the nightstand. He got another text from Pete, this time an address to ‘a kick ass halloween party’ and he told him to bring Ryan. Knowing Ryan wouldn’t go, he texted him saying he’s going.  
      Halloween was three days away, and Frank wondered if Gerard was going - or if he’s hosting it. He hoped to see him there, things needed to happen. He grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and sat on the couch. Three days.

Halloween came quicker than expected, and Frank hadn’t seen Gee these past few days. He worried that he wasn’t going to be at the party, and there was no way of communication, only his address. Frank was thinking about going to his house to see him, to tell him about the party. He needed to be there.  
      Time dragged itself; the party was a few hours too far. Ryan was fidgety - “I’m not getting drunk, Frank. I don’t know what’s going to happen or who’s going to be there.”  
      “Don’t freak out on me now, Ryan. I already promised Pete you’d be there. He doesn’t want you to stay home alone on Halloween. Don’t drink if you don’t want to get drunk. Take my drunk ass home.” Frank dripped a few drops of blood on his chin and lips, “Quit stressing, you’re ruining my hype.”  
      “Sorry. But what if Brendon goes? What am I supposed to do? Or say?”  
      “Uh, nothing? You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”  
      “But- “  “For the love of god stop.” Frank grabbed Ryan’s shoulders, “calm down. You’re gonna have fun, you’re not gonna see Brendon, and you’re not gonna get drunk. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.”  
      Ryan nodded, not totally reassured, but went along with it. He grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”  
      “But you just got out of one thirty minutes ago!”  
      Ryan didn’t say anything and left. Frank sighed and sluggishly walked to his closet. He put on his best suit (his only suit) and fixed his hair. Misty cologne fell on him gently and he buttoned his coat. He thought about Gerard putting on a suit, his vibrant hair against pure black. He breathed in and walked out on campus. This was gonna be quite a night.

Ryan dried his hair as they walked to the party. They were blocks away, but they heard it clear as day. Frank took off his plastic fangs, “this thing is shit.” He threw it in a garbage can, “I have made more spit in there than that time me and Pete had a spitting competition.”  
      Ryan laughed, “I told you not to be Dracula.”  
      “I’m not Dracula. I am a blood thirsty cannibal with fangs. Not a vampire.”  
      “And what do you call that?”  
      “A politician.”  
      Ryan snickered as they crossed the tainted lawn into the hellhole of a house. They were greeted with half naked women and booze. Frank took a bottle of Jack and passed it to Ryan, who declined. “I guess we’re gonna -” Frank turned around and Ryan was gone. “Split.”  
      He sat at the tiny home bar, accompanied by three barstools. He sat down and put the bottle on the bar, occasionally drinking from it, waiting for Pete to show up. Time became warped as he neared the bottom of the bottle. His vision blurred, but sharpened when he made contact with Pete, who walked in with Patrick at his side.  
      He got up and almost toppled over. He regained balance as he rushed to him. “How’s it going down?”  
      Pete laughed, “not sure, but Brendon's gotta be there. I called him when he was in the middle of a keg stand.”  
      Frank laughed much more than he should’ve, “sounds about right. Don’t make us wait too long, everyone’s gonna pass out.”  
      Pete nodded and was dragged away by Patrick, who obviously had to tell him something privately.  
      He stumbled back to his stool, which was taken by somebody else. “Hey, man, I was sitting there.”  
      The guy turned around and drank from his bottle, “piss off you little shit.” Frank took a step back, “listen, motherfucker, I’ll kick your ass to next year.”  
      The guy stood up, towering over him, “you sure about that?”  
      Sober Frank would’ve let him sit at his stool, but drunk Frank wanted to fight. He lunged at the beast, knocking him down. He threw a couple punches and stopped when his knuckles threatened to break. The guy pushed him off and got on his feet. Frank slowly rose and immediately was given a swift, heavy punch that almost knocked him out. He dropped to the floor and covered his bruising face. The guy was indulging in his victory as half the crowd booed him and cheered for him. Frank stood up and lunged at him again. He shot his drunken energy in fast, consistent punches, and the dimness of the party didn’t help. When the guy’s face started bleeding on Frank’s knuckles, someone pulled him off and held him back. He turned around to see who’s arms were wrapped around his chest tightly - Pete.  
      Frank’s energy faded as the rest of the crowd dragged the monstrous body out on the lawn and left him there. Pete let go and whispered, “upstairs now.” He left and Frank slowly walked up the stairs. He heard bustling and tipsy laughter coming from one of the rooms.  
      He entered a large bedroom, complete with a balcony. There was a very exclusive crowd there, many with familiar faces - friends of friends. Brendon was in the middle holding a skateboard, talking with Joe.  
      Pete walked in and closed the door. He stood with Patrick for a bit, then opened the door of the balcony. He stood outside and with a bottomless red cup he yelled to the party in the backyard - “get the fuck out of the pool unless you want to die! If you stay in the pool, you will die!”  
      Frank’s arm was nudged with an unlabeled mason jar with a clear liquid in it. He took a swig of it and almost hacked it up; it was moonshine. He passed it to the lady next to him and turned his attention to Pete, who was still yelling at the party. He figured the drunks left the pool and began staring up at the balcony, waiting for whatever was going to happen.  
      Pete, Patrick and Andy pulled out a makeshift ramp, made from cheap craft store wood and nails. Pete stomped on the ramp, making sure it wouldn’t cave in. Brendon dropped his skateboard and put his foot on it. Andy held Brendon’s shoulders, and pushed him when he was ready to kick off.  
      Brendon zoomed out the room, rode up the ramp, and by a crosshair, missed the balcony fence. The bedroom group ran out onto the balcony to watch him land. He was airborne for a few seconds, and landed right in the center of the pool. His skateboard, however, landed on a misplaced billiards table, caving in the center of the table. His splash drenched the nearby watchers in pool water, chlorine and liquor.  
      Everyone cheered when Brendon swam back up to the top, flipping water from his hair. He had a slight difficulty climbing out, and limped back inside, arms wrapped around Ryan’s shoulders. Frank rolled his eyes and went back inside the master bedroom. The crowd laughed, talked and raved about the stunt, saying no shit faced person could pull off such an organized stunt without breaking a bone.  
      The crowd began leaving the room, so naturally Frank followed. When he reached the doorway, a hand landed on his chest and pushed him back in the room. His attention moved from the rest of the crowd, who didn’t seem to notice, to the vibrant red that popped out in the dark house. Gerard smirked, “I heard you’re Mike Tyson now.”  
      Frank shrugged and couldn’t help but to laugh awkwardly. He pushed his hair away from his face, “you seen that?”  
      “Seen it? I pulled you off the guy.”  
      Gerard’s hand moved and Frank squared his eyes, “no, Pete pulled me off of him.”  
      “No, I did. I whispered for you to go upstairs because I know you didn’t wanna miss the spectacle. Unless Pete sometimes whispers in your ear, then I can see the confusion.”  
      Frank bowed his head, “oh, yeah, thanks.”  
      Gee closed the bedroom door and ran his hands over Frank’s chest. “I never took you for a suit kinda guy.”  
      “Oh, I’m not. I just dressed up as a politician,” he pointed to his dried blood, “see?”  
      Gerard laughed, “classy.” His hands reached over his shoulders, then his arms dragged over them, resting on them. “Very clever,” he said softly.  
      Frank swallowed hard and stared in his eyes until Gerard pulled him closer to himself. They were chest to chest, in each other’s space. Frank’s eyes raced around his face, taking in very detail. He stared at his lips the longest, but ignored his desire to kiss them.  
      Gerard pulled Frank’s hair and he dropped his head back, biting his lip and pulling at Gee’s tie. He was never so frustrated in his life.  
      Gee lightly bit his neck Frank let out a quiet moan as he moved up his neck, to his jaw, and finally, Frank tried to kiss his lips. He quickly pulled back, “you’re drunk.”  
      Frank laughed, “only a little. What about you?”  
      “I don’t drink.”  
      Frank hung his hands off the brim of his jacket when he was backing away, “where are you going?”  
      He slowly pried Frank’s hands off of his jacket, “nowhere. I’m staying with you.”  
      Frank walked towards him and unbuttoned his jacket, “good. Now show me what a model can do.”  
      “Frank, I’m not sleeping with you if you’re drunk.”  
      “But I’m not -”  
      “You’ve been drinking.”  
      Frank closed his eyes, “I am so confused; you want to sleep with me.”  
      “Not if you’ve been drinking.”  
      Frank realized why. He backed up and looked at his feet, “sorry.”  
      Gee laughed, “why?”  
      “For y’know -”  
      “Frank,” he held his shoulders, “you’re at a party. Go drink, get fucked up, man.”

They moved downstairs and the whole house rang with cheers for Frank. He grabbed the red solo cup and threw it back like a shot. He figured Gee was alright with him getting drunk, so he wasn’t gonna let good liquor go to waste. Drink after drink, he dicked around with Brendon, Pete and Joe. They almost drowned in the keg, drank from towering, duck taped beer bongs, played a crude game of beer pong (which was really throwing ping pong balls at each other), all while Gerard trailed behind them, laughing and having just as much fun they were having. He encouraged them to do things crazier than the last, and made sure Frank didn’t get into any more fights.  
      Frank ran out the front door, and with him followed the crew. He pulled down his pants and peed in some poor bastard’s gas tank, slurring his favorite songs. He looked around casually, and watched as Brendon limped with Ryan down the block, leaving the party. He smiled and zipped his pants, almost falling back, but Gerard caught him from behind. Frank looked up at him and they both laughed.  
      Frank got back to his feet, holding onto Gee’s shoulder, “you’re my bestest friend.”  
      Gerard laughed, “we’ve only known each other for a week.”  
      “Yeah, but like, I love you man, and you’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world.” He drunkenly smiled and pushed his shoulder, “I wanted you to come, and you came, and I got happy, and now I’m really happy. I’m really fucking happy you came.”  
      Gerard awkwardly smiled, “alright, you’re very drunk, so I’m gonna take you home.”  
      “But the party just started like, ten minutes ago.”  
      “No, actually, it’s two am. The party started about four hours ago. And I need you home because I can’t carry you if you pass out.”  
      Frank raised a finger to oppose, but put it to his mouth to keep down his drinks. A few burps later, he tumbled onto Gerard, “I’m not even that drunk, though, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”  
      His weight was pushing Gerard down, and he tried keeping him up, but failed. They both fell to the grass, Frank giving all of his weight to keep him down. Gee pushed him off and rolled to the side and stood up. He looked around at the party; it was dying out. One by one, each party goer crashed to the floor, never to get back up, or sat down and passed out peacefully. He looked back at Frank, who was on the verge of it. “Come on, Frank, get up.”  
      Frank nodded and rolled onto his stomach. Gerard sighed and picked him up off the grass. It took a few pulls, but he got him almost standing on his own two feet. Frank leaned all of his weight on him, so the walk to Gee’s car was difficult.  
      He opened the passenger door and shoved him inside, buckling his hands under the belt so they don’t make trouble when he’s driving. He ran to the driver’s side and drove him away from the party. “Where do you live? Are you on campus?” Frank rolled his head and mumbled things. “Frank I need to know where you live.”  
      He leaned his head on the window, “Brendon. I seen him leave with Ryan, who’s my best friend too, which was weird because -” He stopped mid sentence to belch and swallow his liquor again. “Because he went out with some teacher. Bren did, not Ry, and I think he was doing some sex with him so he could raise his grade in music or art or some shit.”  
      “Which is weird because...”  
      “Which is weird because Brendon is really talented in music, like, Frank Sinatra is his best friend.”  
      Gerard smiled and glanced over at him, “that’s all great but I need to know where you live.”  
      “Ryan’s a virgin, so I dunno what’s gonna happen because he didn’t wanna see Brendon or get drunk, but he like, left with Brendon. I’m not sure if he’s drunk, but if you leave a party with someone, that means you’re gonna have sex, right?”  
      The car stopped at a light and Gerard looked over at Frank, whose big hazel eyes stared back. His eyes were given a red translucency, tainting the rest of his eyes with red. They lit up the car more brighter than the light itself. He couldn't help but to stare into those marbling eyes that silently looked back at him. "No, not necessarily."  
      The light turned green, "I dunno, man, but Pete and Patrick are totally gonna bang. They were making out in the bushes. Literally, they were in the bushes, like through them." Frank laughed, "bushes man."  
      "Frank I need to know where you live."  
      "I'm tired."  
      "Frank do you live on campus or not? Yes or no?"  
      Frank passed out and Gerard dropped his head back, "shit."

Gerard drove him back to his house and pulled him up the stairs. The took him to his bedroom and dropped him on the bed. Frank slowly moved, "take off my clothes." Gerard's eyes raced around the room, trying to comprehend what he said; "what?"  
      "I can't sleep with them on."  
      Gee stood there, unsure of what to do. "Seriously?"  
      Frank nodded and Gee reached for his dress pants. He unzipped them and Frank jerked his hips up. Gerard moved his hand away. "Sorry," Frank giggled, "I was remembering the alley."  
      Gee nodded and pulled off his pants. He took off his suit coat and threw it over the back of the chair, along with his own. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off of him. Gerard looked at his scattered tattoos in awe. They were simple but complex, colorless but full of life. Frank stretched his arms over his head and relaxed.  
      Gerard had never seen him so calm, so vulnerable. He was peaceful and untroubled, things he had never seen in Frank.  
      He looked at him almost thoroughly, tracing every curve, bump and line with his eyes, not noticing the ninja turtles boxers he was wearing. He was flawless.  
      Gerard pried his eyes off of him and changed into his nerdy Star Wars pajamas. He crawled in next to Frank, who spread himself out, almost taking over the whole bed. Gee pulled the covers from under him and covered them both. He rolled onto his side, having his back face him.  
      Frank shifted a lot, and before Gerard could turn around, he wrapped his arm around him. He shuffled closer until his bare chest was pushed up against his back. He breathed lightly against Gee's neck, sending chills down his spine. He couldn't control himself. Unwillingly, his arm wrapped around Frank's and he entwined their fingers. He closed his eyes, feeling different. Of everyone he was in this position with, Frank fit perfectly. He was comfortable in his arms, and his breathing wasn't troubling. It was all serene, something none of his previous partners could offer him. He held onto his arm tighter and fell asleep.  
   
Frank woke up and rubbed his head. This hangover was hellish. He stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Realizing he wasn't at the dorm, he quietly turned his head to see who he was lying next to. He felt relief when he seen that dash of red. The crack in the curtain blinded him, so he rolled to his side and moved closer to Gee. He stared at the colorless lines that ran down the shirt, and lightly traced them all with his finger. He went down to the curve of his back, then came back up to his shoulder, making it jerk up. Gerard rolled over to face him, and noticing his shirt, Frank smiled, "nice shirt."  
      He laughed and put his hand over his shoulder, and pulled it down to his chest. Frank covered his hand with his own, "did anything happen last night?" Both of their voices were coarse and tired, rasping harshly against their throats.  
      "Other than you pissing in someone's gas tank? Nope."  
      Frank smiled, "sounds about right." He looked up into his hazel eyes that seemed to glow like whiskey in the sunlight. "But I meant did anything happen between us?"  
      Gerard's smile was huge, "no, but you tried to make something happen."  
      Frank laughed, "also sounds like me."  
      They stared at each other in silence - they seem to be doing a lot of that recently. It was as if each time they looked at each other was the first time.  
      They were inches away, breathing each other’s breaths. Frank tilted his head and leaned over to kiss him, but he moved away. Embarrassed, Frank pulled away too, "I'm sorry, I th -"  
      "No, it's okay. It's just, uh, my breath smells."  
      Frank laughed, "you can only imagine what mine smells like. I drank bong water."  
      Gerard laughed and got out of bed. Frank sat up, "where you going?"  
      "Breakfast. Want anything in particular?"  
      "I do like pancakes." Gee smiled and left the room. Frank looked around and realized that this place looks vaguely familiar. He looked until his eyes landed on glass doors. He stood up and looked through them, but the doors were dirty and the sun was too bright. He opened them and walked out on the balcony. The pool, the billiards table, the skateboard, the bushes, it all hit him like a train. The scattered bottles and cups, burned patches of grass soiled with vomit. "Well fuck," he whispered. He put on pants and walked downstairs.  
      Downstairs was a wreck. It was a typical college party aftermath; booze, cups and people were all over the place. He smelled pancakes, but when he walked into the kitchen, Gerard was cleaning up. He looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back.  
      He picked up a few bottles and threw them in their bins. He picked up a Jack and seen his name poorly scribbled on it with crayon. He let out a short breath of laughter and threw it out.  
      Gerard went back to his pancakes, and Frank desperately wanted to come up from behind him and wrap his arms around him. Kiss his shoulder and lay his head on him. He wanted him to curl his fingers in his', wrap his hands around his waist and hold them there tight. He wanted to smell an afterparty from him, but his mind felt differently, so he continued cleaning.  
      When the pancakes were flipped, he turned around carefully, his head turning first to see if Frank was behind him, about to wrap himself around him. But he wasn't; he was across the kitchen, the island between them. His heart felt heavy and Frank didn't even notice. This whole situation was confusing and he was frustrated. He turned back to his pancakes and began taking them off the griddle.  
      Frank looked up at him and felt hurt, as if he dismissed him entirely. He swallowed hard and stared at him. He took a deep breath and walked toward him quickly but silently. He reached for his shoulder, but held his hand over it. He froze behind him, like a child. Gerard turned around they both just looked at each other, Frank's hand still floating. They were both yelling at each other in their minds, trying to get the other to hear, to make the move.  
      Frank leaned in for a kiss and by a crosshair, missed and kissed his cheek. Gerard had moved his head to the side.  
      Frank held onto Gee's arms tightly and with a disgruntled look, his coarse whisper moved around Gerard’s head, tightening hiss skull, giving him a headache. “Why?”  
      He released his grip and Gerard looked down at his chest, "you're not wearing a shirt."  
      Frank sighed, defeated, "no, but I have a feeling you don't mind."  
      Frank's alcohol tainted breath was bittersweet to him. Gerard didn’t want to avoid his lips. Hell, he’d sell his soul for a taste of his mouth. For a second, he thought about it tasting like booze or last night’s drugs.  
      Frank smiled and he pulled away from him. He grabbed two stools and set them down at the kitchen island. They talked about last night over breakfast, laughing at Frank's drunken mishaps.  
      After they ate, they went back upstairs to change into their clothes. Frank's untucked shirt hung loosely over his body. "I don't have class today."  
      Gee turned to him, "so, wanna hang out?"  
      "Sure. Can we call it a date?"  
      "Well, I don't think you’d want to get anywhere near me with a day that can end in such a way."  
      "Why is that?"  
      Gerard smirked, "I'm a very...intricate...guy when it comes to sex."  
      Frank slyly smirked, "can't wait to meet him then."  
      “Trust me,” he laughed, “you don’t.”  
      Gerard led him to his front door and sent him off. “Eight, right?”  
      Frank’s hungover morning voice cracked and he laughed, “sure.” He watched him leave until he disappeared.  
      Frank reached the front gate of the university. He looked up at the clocktower and laughed. The whole walk through, he thought about what Gerard meant by intricate. He had no idea what he was getting in to, and he was diving in head first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long but necessary...


	7. Infatuation (Pete/Patrick)

Pete waited outside Patrick’s class, sitting on the floor accompanied by his music. Once the class poured out, Pete caught Patrick, “let me get your bag.”  
      Patrick smiled, “it’s alright, it’s really heavy.”  
      Pete ignored him and grabbed his bag and his arm almost dislocated. Patrick giggled, “you sure you don’t need help?”  
      Pete waved his hand, “Patrick, look at me, I work out.”  
      Patrick looked at him, “when’s the last time you worked out?”  
      Pete scoffed, “that doesn’t matter, dude, I’m strong.”  
      Patrick nodded and they walked outside. The campus was dark, but dimly lit with path lamps. The leaves swirled and danced as the wind blew gently. One gust and Patrick’s hat almost flew with it, but he caught it and pushed it tighter on his head. Both walked silently, listening to every sound the world had to offer. Students ran past them and through the grass, sometimes yelling at one another for some reason. They both kicked leaves and snapped twigs in half as they walked.  
      The weight on Pete’s shoulder was gonna kill him, but he didn’t care. He’d hate for Patrick to be sore the next day. Patrick sniffled and Pete looked over at him. The weight disappeared instantaneously. It felt as if he were floating. Everything in the world didn’t exist. The world had stopped.  
      There were no sounds other than Patrick’s breathing. He fell even harder in love. Every second he looked at him was another eternity he wanted to spend with him. He caught himself staring and looked forward again. Although he prayed Patrick didn’t know what he was thinking, he wanted desperately to know what he was thinking. Did he find it weird that he was staring at him? Did he even notice? Does he know that Pete loved him so much it almost physically hurt him?  
      Patrick noticed Pete looking at him but didn’t acknowledge him. He had no idea how to react. He wanted to look back at him and give him a million kisses, hug him so tightly his ribs might break. He wanted to have him in his arms, be so close he could hear his heart beat, but he thought he was insane. They only knew each other for a week, and he didn’t want to seem clingy.  
      Pete breathed out and turned himself to face Patrick. Patrick stopped and they both stared at each other. Looking into those confusing blue/green eyes was like looking into a galaxy. Pete couldn’t help but to get lost in those eyes that carried a million different colors. The semitransparent color pulled him in and took his brain somewhere else. Like glue, he stared into those eyes that stared back, but they had an almost completely different experience.  
      Patrick felt like he was staring at the untouched beauty of a mountain terrain. It’s something so subtle, but perfect in every way. Something so common was so different from the others. He’d seen a million brown eyes, but these stopped the world. They stopped movement, sound, the wind didn’t even blow. People dream of exploring galaxies, but if staying grounded on the earth meant that he was able to wake up each morning to the mountains, then the galaxies meant nothing to him.  
      Pete’s arm curled around Patrick’s waist and he pulled him in. Patrick tripped over his own feet and fell onto Pete. His hands laid flat on his chest and his eyes raced around his face. He didn’t hear Pete’s heartbeat, but Patrick felt it ready to burst.  
      Pete let out an empty breath. His thoughts battled each other, thinking wether or not he should kiss him. Just because he’s wrapped in your arms doesn’t mean he wants to be kissed; but if he didn’t want to kiss he would’ve pushed away. All of his thoughts crashed at the walls of his skull, giving him a rising headache.  
      Patrick wondered if Pete was going to kiss him. He wanted him to lean forward already because it felt like a year had passed since he fell into him.  
      They slowly moved toward each other and kissed. The world set back into motion. The noise, the huffs of rushing students, the leaves circling them, they all moved faster and louder.  
      The wind blew Patrick's hat up and Pete quickly pushed it tighter on his head. Although he wasn't in his 'perfect romantic' spot he had planned for him, Pete felt this moment was more than flawless; they both did.  
      They moved away and stared into the deepness of color they always seemed to get lost in. The wind pushed again, and a leaf hit Pete in the face, making Patrick burst into laughter. “Goddammit.”  
      They continued to walk to the dorm house, up the stairs and to the right, Ryan's room stood. The door opened and Patrick gave Ryan a plastic bag. "What's everyone doing for Halloween?"  
      Pete walked to the door, "massive party. You have to be there. I really don't want you staying home like a loser."  
      Ryan shrugged, "I dunno, I don't like the whole party scene too much. Drinking fucks me over."  
      "And that's why you gotta come! Drink, man, get fucked over, or better yet, get fucked."  
      Patrick's face grew hot, "or whatever. You obviously don't have to drink."  
      "So you coming?"  
      Ryan sighed, "if I must."  
  
They reached Patrick's dorm when Pete nudged his shoulder. He hung his hand off of his own collar and looked at his feet, "I was wondering, with the whole party talk, if you wanted to, y'know, like come with me?"  
      Patrick smiled. He loved it when Pete got shy, one of the million things he loves about him. "Of course I'll go. I just need a costume."  
      "Oh don't worry, I got you! Just be ready to change."  
  
On the morning of the party, Pete immediately texted Patrick, telling him to come over asap. Patrick came minutes later in a t shirt and jeans. Brendon opened the door and let him in. Pete was standing on the couch in his underwear. Patrick closed his eyes, "Pete where’s your pants?"  
      Bren patted his shoulder, "he's all yours," and left the dorm. Pete jumped off the couch, "there's no time for pants, Patrick!"  
      "No, I really think there is time fo-"  
      "No time! This is important! Here's whats going down -"  
      "At the party?"  
      "At the party. Brendon told me his plans - fucking awesome. And we're going as the Osbournes."  
      Patrick looked at him confused, "like, Ozzy Osbourne?"  
      "Exactly! I'm Ozzy and you're Sharon. You were gonna be Ozzy, but when I yell Sharon I sound just like him. And you're gonna have to dye your hair."  
      "Pete this is insane."  
      "Sharronn!"  
      "Pete you need to st-"  
      Pete pushed Patrick onto a beanbag chair and sat on his lap. He pulled at his shirt and smiled, "it’s gonna be awesome."  
      Patrick rolled his eyes and before he could say something, Pete placed a quick kiss on his lips and stood up. He turned to the door and paused. His face looked like a mixture of confusion and terror. "Pete?"  
      He didn't answer and stared at the door. Patrick stood up next to him, "Pete what's wrong?"  
      Pete looked at him, "do you think Ozzy calls Sharon babe?"  
      Patrick dropped his head back, "ugh."  
   
They walked to the party hand in hand. Patrick's hair was spray dyed a deep burgundy and styled perfectly. He didn't want to dye his hair but Pete insisted and promised it'll come off in the shower. He couldn't really help himself, he was in an old lady blouse and dress pants while Pete wore a wig and a long black trench coat.  
      The party was loud and constantly moving. Frank stumbled to Pete and Patrick couldn't hear what they were saying. Someone threw a box of condoms at Patrick and told him he’s gonna need a box and pointed at Pete.  
      Patrick grabbed Pete and pulled him to a corner. "What's up?"  
      "Are we having sex tonight?"  
      Pete laughed, "not unless you want to, and of course, if we’re, you know, not too drunk. I don’t wanna get anyone pregnant."  
      "What?"  
      Pete smiled and grabbed a Hennessy, "Patrick I won't do anything you don't want to do."  
      Patrick nodded and blushed, "sorry, I was ju-"  
      Pete put his hand up, "nope. You're fine, we're fine, now let's get drunk." He finished a quarter of the bottle and passed it to Patrick, who took a few swallows of it, then proceeded to finish half of the bottle.  
      They drank the bottle dry and crawled upstairs. They laughed so hard they couldn't even function. They finally got to the master bedroom and were waved at by Andy, Joe, Brendon, Spencer and professor Dallon. “Why’s a teacher here?”  
      “No fucking clue.” They decided to go along with it.  
      Frank showed up with a bruised face and bloody knuckles, but he was excited. Pete pulled a mason jar out of his trench and took a swig of it and passed it to Patrick. He sniffed it to see what it was; moonshine. He took a sip and almost threw it back up. He passed it to Joe and the bottle got lost from there.  
      Patrick pulled on Pete’s sleeve like a child, “what if he injures himself?”  
      “What?”  
      “Like, what if he misses?”  
      “Dude, he won’t, he got this. Quit worrying it’s making my drunk go away.”  
      Pete yelled for the partygoers to get out of the pool and they set up a makeshift ramp. Pete gave the final signal and Brendon took off on his skateboard. They ran out to the balcony and watched him land in the pool.  
      Patrick slid his hand into Pete's and he held on tightly. Pete lowered his head and whispered to him, "I always tell you everything is gonna be alright, and I'm always right." He looked at him, "trust me, man."  
      Patrick nodded and the moonshine bumped his arm. He took it and finished it. "Now let's go see B."  
      They walked downstairs and Patrick grabbed a bottle of gin and chocked it back. He tried handing it to Pete but his vision was fuzzy and he dropped it. Pete laughed and picked it up; “cracked but still in tact,” he smiled.  
      They found Ryan talking to Brendon, who was slurring and babbling.  
      "Sorry to interrupt," Pete started, "but that was fucking awesome!"  
      Brendon laughed, "I know right! Fucking crazy! I think I fucked up my ankle though. This pansy wants to take me back home." He tilted his head toward Ryan, who raised his hand in protest, "no, wait, yes, you're going back because I said so...so you're going home."  
      "I'm staying."  
      "No."  
      Pete and Patrick slowly backed up and walked away as they continued. They managed to get out to the backyard and tripped over themselves until they reached a fold up table covered in bottles of various liquors and drinks. They sat on the grass and drank bottle after bottle, having about four bottles. They laughed and talked about nothing important because nothing was bad in the world. They drank until they seen nothing but blurred shapes and heard muffled noise. They barely heard what the other said, but they didn’t mind because they enjoyed the company.  
      Patrick struggled to get up, and when he did, he took a few steps until Pete pushed him down again. They laughed until they were breathless. He got up and tried to push Pete, but missed and fell forward. Pete pointed and laughed at him even harder and Patrick grabbed his ankle and tripped him.  
      Pete crawled to a tree and pulled himself up. Patrick followed, grabbing onto him to help himself stand up. Pete tried to run, but he pushed him and they both landed in a bush. Patrick landed on top of Pete and their laugh quieted as they looked at each other. Pete’s arms pulled him closer and they kissed. They moved slow and intimate, taking in each inch of their lips.  
      They felt like this was the first time they’d done this. Each kiss felt like the first, and their intoxicated brains took them somewhere else, somewhere far away. They weren’t at the house party surrounded by drunks; they were secluded in a quite place all their own. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they were home.  
      The last kiss ended slowly, despite the fact they were desperate for air. Patrick leaned his forehead on Petes’, his breath slowly inching over his mouth. Pete ran his fingers through his hair, feeling it’s faux burgundy-colored softness. “Patrick?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “This is all romantic and cute and shit, but there’s a branch creeping up my ass and I don’t want an infestation.”  
      Patrick laughed and pushed himself up, then lifted Pete from the bush. “Pete where’s your wig?”  
      Pete felt his hair and looked around, “well shit. Can’t get that returned.”  
      They awkwardly laughed and stood there silently. “So, wanna go back?”

They stumbled through campus, slurring with their lips at the tip of a bottle. They carefully crawled up the stairs and although people didn’t mind drunk floor mates, they pretended they were sober and tried to make small talk with random students.  
      Pete opened his door and fell inside. Patrick laughed and tossed his bottle somewhere in the dark room. He dragged him to his bed and picked him up. Patrick crawled into bed first and Pete was close behind him. Patrick lied on his back and Pete lied on top of him, “hey, guess what?”  
      Patrick smiled, “what?”  
      “Chicken butt.”  
      They laughed so hard it hurt, and Pete relaxed on him, putting his head in the crook of his neck. Patrick sighed and fussed with Pete’s long hair, which seemed to disappear with a flick, and combed his fingers through his now short hair, lightly pulling the ends. Pete smiled and kissed him one last time before rolling off of him. He looked over at him, and as if Patrick just knew, he looked back at him. “Patrick?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      He paused with his mouth open. His brain kept yelling ‘infatuation’ but his chest hurt every time that word came about. ‘It was only two weeks, you can’t just be madly in love with someone in two weeks it’s impossible; infatuation!’ He ignored the terrible thoughts and whispered, “I love you, man.”  
      He smiled, “good, because I love you too.”  
      “I bet,” Pete rolled on his side, “I love you more than you love me.”  
      Patrick rolled on his side. They both faced each other in the dark, “impossible.”  
      “Oh, no, it’s true. I love you so much, I can’t even explain it.”  
      “Well,” Patrick bopped his nose, “I love you that much, times infinity.”  
      “You can’t do that, that’s cheating.”  
      “Who said?”  
      “I did.”  
      Patrick lazily dropped his hand on Pete’s head, then dragged it to his cheek. They both giggled, “I think it’s safe to say, that, instead of competing, we are so in love with each other, that we can’t fathom the fact that we love each other so much.”  
      Pete smiled and pushed Patrick on his back. He lied his head on his chest and pulled at his blouse, “take this off it’s scratching my face.”  
      Patrick laughed and took it off. Pete returned to his spot and Patrick wrapped his arm around him, pulling him up closer. “When can I take off your shirt?”  
      “Whenever you want.”  
      Patrick scoffed and held him tighter.  
      “Hey Patrick?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      Pete poked at him, “is space endless, or is it a paradox?”  
      “What?”  
      “Like, if you keep going in one direction for a long time, will you end up in the place you started?”  
      Patrick was silent as he looked at the ceiling. “Pete?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “Never ask me this question ever again for as long as we live, okay?”  
      “But Patrick -”  
      “No.”  
      “But it needs to be answered who’s gonna answer me I will not sleep until you tell me an answer with proof.”  
      “Okay, but get this; if anything is possible, then it is possible to have something that’s impossible?  
      The room fell silent for a long time. “Patrick?”  
      He smiled, “yeah?”  
      “Never ask me that ever again.”  
      Patrick kissed him, “gotcha.”


	8. Well Shit (Brendon/Dallon)

Brendon woke up to weight on his stomach. He opened his eyes and Pete was lying on top of him; “Pete what are you doing?”  
      He looked up, “waiting for you to wake the fuck up.”  
      “Well,” he struggled to sit up, “I’m awake.”  
      Pete got off of him and pulled him out of bed. “Halloween party on Saturday, you got someone to go with you?”  
      He thought about inviting Spencer, and almost texted him, but something told him not to invite him. He made up a million excuses not to ask him, so he didn’t. “Not sure, well, not yet.” He ran his fingers through his fluffy morning hair and slipped on a beanie, “not yet.”  
      “Well, when are you gonna find someone to go with you? You’re gonna look like a loser if you show up alone. I will actually be offended if you don’t bring anyone.” Pete stared at him as he ate cereal from the box.  
      “Okay, but dude, it’s not even that serious. It’s not like I won’t get laid.” He grabbed milk from the fridge and smelled it, “holy shit, it smells like ass.” He was about to dump it out the window, but Pete gave him a glare, so he wrote ‘bad’ on the jug and put it on the accent table from Ikea, which was bought as a joke, but they both got really fond of.  
      “Who do you want me to invite?”  
      Pete smiled suggestively and tilted his head toward the wall, the one with Ryan on the other side. “No.”  
      “Brendon -”  
      “No, I’m not inviting him.”  
      “Why not,” he put down the cereal, “he likes you a lot and he’s such a dork and he needs to get outside more.”  
      “That’s why I’m not inviting him. People would make fun of me if I brought him to the party.”  
      “Dude, no one even knows him. As far as they know, he’s just as awesome as you are. Now, stop being a dick and invite him. Or,” he shoved a paper at him, “invite this bastard and raise my grade.”  
      Brendon looked at the paper. It was a report card, all passing grades except for one, which was professor Dallon’s class, “you failed his class?”  
      “No, he failed me. He doesn’t like me.”  
      “And you think he’d like me?”  
      “If you slept with him, yeah. You failed his class, too!”  
      Brendon looked back at the grades and back at Pete, “dude what if I sleep with him and he doesn’t change the grades.”  
      “He will. Half the class is sleeping with him.”  
      “Then what would make me different?”  
      Pete laughed, “are you kidding? You’re the best. Now, go fuck him and get that D to an A.”  
      They both snickered, “fine. But you owe me.”  
      Pete grabbed a paper and wrote on it. He passed it to him, ‘i o u; one sex-worthy grade’.

Brendon dragged himself through the halls and up the stairs. Brendon thought he was a bit of an airhead.  
      He watched the students leave the room. When the last left, he peeped inside. Dallon was sitting at his desk in that same outfit he always seemed to be in; white button down shirt, unbuttoned black (sometimes grey) coat, and either dress pants or skinny jeans. Brendon took a deep breath and walked in, “professor Weekes?”  
      He looked up from his desk. Brendon never noticed how blue his eyes were. They were beautiful. “Yes?”  
      He slowly walked toward him, trying to find the perfect thing to say. “I need to ask you about my grades. And the grades of my friend. Name’s -”  
      “Brendon, I know.” He smiled, “I can’t forget a face like yours.”  
      Brendon smiled; this was gonna be easier than he thought. “Look,” he sat on his table and spoke softly, “I’m failing, so I came to ask you about extra credit.”  
      Dallon pulled at his jacket, “well, I don’t have any extra assignments for you to do, but you can tell me what you want to do for extra credit and I’ll,” his yes quickly checked him out, “approve.”  
      Having played this game for years, he innocently asked what he could do.  
      “Anything you’re willing to do.”  
      He bit his lip and straddled him. He twirled his finger in his hair, “is there anything in particular you’d want me to do?”  
      He looked at him for a moment, then whispered, “get on your knees.”  
      Brendon smiled and got down on his knees. Dallon stood up and unbuttoned his dress pants. Brendon smiled as he pulled them down slowly. His teeth grazed his dick through his underwear, making Dallon bite his lip.  
      He bit the waist of his underwear and slowly pulled them down. Once they hit the floor, Brendon grabbed onto his dick and dragged his tongue up his length slowly. Dallon pulled at his hair and moaned deeply. He swirled his tongue on the tip and he moaned louder. "Just blow me already," he breathed heavily. Brendon smiled and kissed his hip softly. He slowly pushed his cock in his mouth and Dallon cursed. He moved too slowly, so Dallon pushed Brendon’s head against the table, making him fall backwards until his back hit the desk.  
      Brendon licked his lips and held onto his hips as he thrusted his dick in his mouth. He kept hitting the back of his throat, making him gag repeatedly and drag his nails down his thighs.  
      Dallon leaned against the table, pushing it with every thrust. His head dropped and went slower, but deeper, “fuck.”  
      Brendon spread his legs a bit and slid his hand in his pants. He started jerking off and moaned against Dallon’s cock. Dallon grunted and pushed one last time, keeping his cock at the back of his throat. His cum slid down his throat and he pulled out. Brendon tried to swallow his cum, but coughed it out. He breathed out heavily and took his hand out of his pants, “why’d you stop? I was so close.”  
      Dallon smirked and helped him get up. Brendon wiped his mouth and watched as he buttoned up his pants. Dallon flipped his sweat beaded hair and lazily ran his fingers through it, not even attempting to fix it. “The grades?”  
      He scoffed, “Pete’s grade is gonna be a B+. Your’s, well,” he grabbed Brendon’s hair and pulled his head back. His breath against his neck sent chills down his spine, “your grade is gonna need more than a blowjob.”  
      “Like what?”  
      Dallon tilted his head toward the table and Brendon laughed, “when?”  
      “After that Halloween party you all are going to.”  
      “You know -”  
      “Gerard?” He scoffed, “do you think you’re the only student who failed my class?”  
      He laughed, “I’m gonna get shitfaced tonight, so either you do the same or push the date to tomorrow.”  
      “Don’t worry about it.” He waved him out and Brendon left.

On the day of the party, Brendon put on a skintight bodysuit and Pete painted it to make him look like a skeleton. “This is probably the greatest thing ever.”  
      Bren laughed, “I thought the suit would choke me, but nope.”  
      “No, but your dick wants to be free it seems.” Brendon looked down and seen the bulge of his crotch, “ah damn.”  
      “I mean, it’s not like no one’s ever seen your dick before.”  
      He laughed, “fuck off.”  
      Pete started to giggle, “I’m gonna paint a bone on your dick.”  
      “Please do.”  
      Pete laughed as he painted a tiny, almost microscopic bone, “done.”  
      Brendon looked at it, “wow, you can go fuck yourself.”  
      Pete laughed and braced himself on the table to help him stand up. He closed up the paint and put on the wig. Brendon picked up his phone and before he put it in the suit, he asked, “is Ryan going tonight?”  
      “Frank said he was.”  
      “Which probably means he’s not gonna show up.”  
      Pete shrugged, “I dunno. Text him.”  
      “I don’t have his number.”  
      Pete tossed his phone to him and he copied his number, “I’ll just tell him I always had his number.”  
      “That’s one.”  
      Bren looked up from his phone before he sent the text, “one what?”  
      Pete pulled on his jacket, “one lie. If you can’t remember how many lies you’ve told someone you love, you’re a sick, pathological liar who deserves no love.”  
      “Harsh. And what makes you think I like him?”  
      Pete just looked at him.  
      “Even if I liked him, you make it seem like I’m a psychopath. I’m not gonna lie to him all the time.”  
      “You sure about the psychopath thing, though?”  
      He threw a deflated football at him and sent the text, asking him if he was coming. The messaged flashed ‘read’, but he didn’t respond. Brendon started freaking out internally; he wasn’t sure why.  
      Almost twenty minutes passed, and Brendon was already in his car, when Ryan texted him back, saying he was going.

He parked his car in the driveway and scanned the party, which was already hectic. He didn’t find Pete anywhere, so he grabbed a drink and looked for Ryan. He sat on the liquor stained couch pushed against the wall. He drank and checked his phone until the spot next to him sunk in and an arm lied on the back on the couch.  
      He looked up and Dallon was chugging a bottle of gold, which made him smile, “rum?”  
      “Ah, well, it was either this or wine, and me drunk from wine is not a pleasant thing to see.”  
      “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”  
      “I wasn’t because I had stuff to do.”  
      “But...”  
      Dallon laughed, “but I hadn’t gotten drunk in ages. You’re not drunk yet.”  
      “Yeah,” he sighed, “but not for long. When my crew comes, I’m gonna get fucked up.”  
      Dallon looked at him his eyes roaming every inch of him, “guess it’s not too late for extra credit.”  
      Brendon’s lips smiled against the neck of the bottle, “you seem to want a lot in a short amount of time.”  
      “To be fair, you didn’t get to finish.”

Brendon took Dallon to the office of the house. They kicked the few people that were in there out. When they all left, Dallon closed the door and locked it.  
      The room wasn’t big at all. Just one desk with a computer on it, a shelf of vinyls and Star Wars memorabilia. Windowless, perfect to be a hot box, or a sex lounge.  
      Dallon cleared a section of the table and rolled the chair away, “take off - whatever you’re wearing.”  
      Brendon smiled as he unzipped his body suit and pulled it down to his ankles, along with his underwear, “try to not cum on it; it stains easily. I also hope you’re prepared.”  
      He took out a condom from his pants and dropped it on the table. He smiled and bent over the table, tiptoeing so his ass was raised in the air.  
      Dallon dropped his pants to his ankles. He grabbed the condom and rolled it on. Brendon looked behind him and smiled, “hurry up, my nuts are cold.”  
      He grabbed onto his hips and Brendon turned forward, biting his lip. Dallon slowly pushed inside him and gave a deep moan, his fingers digging into his skin as he pulled out. Brendon bit his lip harder and groaned against his mouth. He pushed back in and started to move faster.  
      The table banged against the wall with loud thuds, getting louder with Brendon’s moans. “Harder,” he whined and Dallon pulled his hair. He tried to jerk off again, but he couldn’t focus on anything, so he groaned louder with very thrust until he was almost screaming. Dallon bent over him and bit his shoulder, breathing heavy profanity and moans against his neck.  
      Brendon came so hard, his mouth hung open, and let out a loud, long moan that he swore the entire house heard. Dallon didn’t stop, so his moaning died to loud whining, and he bit his arm to keep quiet, muttering ‘fuck you, Dallon’ under his breath.  
      Dallon pushed his lips against the curve of Brendon’s neck and moaned against it as he came. He pushed himself up and took off the condom. Brendon, however, stayed bent over the table, panting heavily with his head on his teeth-marked arm.  
      Dallon smirked as he watched his body heave. He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up, and turned him around. He just leaned against the table, red faced, sweaty and out of breath, “you’re a lot different than what I expected.”  
      He awkwardly laughed, “only when students want extra credit.”  
      He pulled his suit back up, “do you fail people on purpose?”  
      Dallon looked at him, “never. That’s just being a dick. I’m fair with my grading,” he pulled up his pants, “it just so happens that I’ll fuck you if you fail. And you and your friend definitely passed the entire semester.”  
      “Shit, seriously?”  
      “I have never fucked such a great ass.”  
      Brendon laughed, “now I can put ‘fucked a pretty chill professor’ in my resume.”  
      He laughed, “also, you got a text. Felt it vibrate against my leg right before I was about to nut.”  
      He laughed and got his phone out. Pete texted him, asking where he was, to which he lied ‘middle of a keg stand’.  
      Before Dallon left the room, Brendon caught up with him, “we could do this again, off the record of course. You got a pretty big desk at school.”  
      He scoffed, “I’ve never had sex with a student in my classroom.”  
      “As opposed to...?”  
      He turned to Brendon, “I’ve been teaching there a long while. Let’s just say, my classroom, the dean’s office and the security desk are virgin areas to me.”  
      “Guess we got a string of dates, then.”  
      In the corner of his eye, he’d seen Ryan, arms folded and introverted, avoiding the drunks. He tapped Dallon’s chest, “hey, meet me upstairs.”

Ryan walked in with Frank, who downed his drink before he even entered the house. He made sure not to bump into anyone to avoid a fight. Frank began to talk, but someone sharply pulled Ryan away and he tripped over his feet and landed onto Brendon’s chest. He quickly stood up and looked at his feet as Brendon laughed, “dude I thought you weren’t gonna come!”  
      He shrugged, “yeah, here I am. I hear you’re gonna do something awesome.”  
      Brendon got excited, “fuck yeah! Dude, the bedroom’s reached it’s ‘people limit’, so you might have to watch from the backyard -”  
      “Watch from the backyard?”  
      He pulled him and took him to the backyard. He pointed at the balcony, who held a screaming, tipsy Pete. “It’s gonna be sick!”  
      “What’re you gonna do?”  
      “Dude, shut up and just watch.”  
      Before he could say anything, Brendon disappeared and he was left outside. He blankly watched the balcony clear up and become too vacant. He began to freak out.  
      Brendon jogged into the bedroom and was passed moonshine and a skateboard. He was drunk enough and ready to go. He was launched off the balcony and once airborne, everything stopped. A million thoughts raced around his head, almost as if his life flashed before his eyes. Then, one thought brought the world back into motion; Ryan.  
      Feet first, he landed in the pool. A sharp pain cut through his whole leg, so he pushed himself back to the top with the other. Once his head reached above the surface, he flipped his hair and the tainted pool water swung in a huge curve. From one side, he heard someone yell “hair flip of the century!” He looked around as he pulled himself out, making sure his injured leg didn’t slam into the wall.  
      Once he got out, he was dazed and everything was blurry. The moonshine kicked in. He stepped on his injured leg and collapsed on the floor. He couldn’t do anything but laugh at the pain that throbbed.  
      He rolled over and pushed himself up again and was about to fall backwards, but Ryan came from behind him and held him up. He threw his arm around Brendon’s shoulder and he put his around his shoulder. He helped him limp back into the house. He set him down on a stool, “your ankle!”  
      Brendon looked down and seen that his ankle was throbbing, and growing, “holy shit!” He laughed, “look at that fucking thing!”  
      “You gotta go home.”  
      “What? Fuck you.”  
      “Brendon.”  
      “Ryan.”  
      Ryan looked at him right in the eye, “I’m taking your dumb ass home now! You’re hurt.”  
      He bowed his head, “fine.”  
      Gerard appeared, “theres some support braces in the office,” he pointed, “wrap that on him before you leave.”  
      Ryan took him to the office and made him sit on the table. Brendon began to laugh, “dude, I was just in here.”  
      He ignored him and found the brace. He put it around his ankle and stood up, “let’s go.”  
      Brendon held out his hand, “come here first.”  
      “Why?”  
      He waved his hands, “just come here.”  
      He stood in front of him, “what?”  
      Brendon briskly kissed him on the lips and smiled. Ryan stared at him, “excuse me.”  
      He laughed, “kiss me back you bitch.”  
      Ryan shook his head, “you need to get back.”

Ryan barged through Brendon’s door and dropped him on the beanbag chair. He got frozen food from the tiny freezer and wrapped in a paper towel, “lift your leg.”  
      “Kinky.”  
      “Stop.”  
      Brendon raised the unharmed leg and Ryan glared at him. He hid his smile behind his mouth before bursting into laughter. Ryan smiled, “the other one.”  
      He slowly raised his sprained ankle and he put the second beanbag chair under it.  
      Brendon giggled, “you need to unzip my suit.”  
      “What?”  
      “If you wanna see my ankle, you have to get me nude,” he laughed.  
      He rolled his eyes, “I’m fine not knowing how it looks.”  
      “I wanna change.”  
      “Brendon -”  
      “I can’t sleep in this I will die.”  
      Ryan raised a brow, “although there could be possible risk factors, I don’t think death is one of them.”  
      Brendon sat forward and struggled to unzip the suit, so he looked at Ryan to help him, and he did. He pulled it down his arms and his chest, revealing the fact that he was only wearing underwear under it. He dropped his head back and moaned in relief, giving Ryan chills.  
      He was about to leave, when Brendon called for him, “yes?”  
      “Stay with me.”  
      “Just don’t walk on it too much and keep it elevated, and -”  
      “Ryan, just stay with me until I sleep. I don’t like sleeping alone.”  
      He rolled his eyes and sat on the floor next to him, his back against his beanbag chair. “Thank you,” Brendon squeaked.  
      Ryan pulled out his phone and Brendon started walking his fingers on his shoulder, singing a happy tune and giggling. He decided to ignore it.  
      It wasn’t until Brendon’s hand made it’s way to his chest that he shot up, “what are you doing?”  
      He looked at him wide eyed, “what do you mean?”  
      He fixed his shirt, “don’t touch me like that.”  
      Brendon smiled, “I thought you wanted me to do that.”  
      “Well, no.” He nodded and walked to his bed. He sat on the edge and watched as Brendon got comfortable and tried to sleep. He got his phone out again and resumed deleting stuff he didn’t need. After a while, he heard Brendon make noise, so he looked up to see him touching himself. His face got hot and he tried to blur it out, but he got louder and started to mumble something. He hid behind his phone and crossed his legs to try and not get hard, but he already was.  
      Brendon licked his lips and breathed Ryan’s name, pulled his hair and arched his back. Ryan was just as much as a mess as he was. He lied on the bed and tried to channel out Brendon’s moans for him. He put his hands to his ears and closed his eyes. Not a moment later, Brendon lied on top of him, “can I kiss you?”  
      Ryan’s heart raced. He desperately wanted to say yes, but he was afraid it’d lead into something more serious, and the last thing he wanted to do was use him like that, even if he wanted to. “No.”  
      Brendon smiled and buried his face in the curve of his neck. He didn’t move, only breathed against his skin. “Brendon?”  
      His head shot up and he kissed Ryan’s chin, “I wanna kiss you.”  
      “You can’t.”  
      “Fine.” He buried his head again and dragged his hips against Ryan’s. His head rolled back as he tried not to encourage him, but he couldn’t help it. Brendon breathed heavily against his shoulder and placed lazy kisses on his neck, lightly moaning against his skin.  
      Ryan tried to stop himself, so he put his hands on Brendon’s bare chest and tried to push. Brendon bit into his neck hard and Ryan arched his back and moaned. Brendon tugged at his jeans and Ryan came back and swatted his hands away, “stop.”  
      Brendon just looked at him, so he pushed him off of him and paced to the door. “Ryan?”  
      He quickly walked to his dorm and swiftly entered it, closing the door with his back. He leaned on the door, running his fingers through his hair to process what the hell just happened. Brendon knocked on the door, making him jump, “I need you to tutor me!”  
      Ryan shook his head, “what?”  
      “In math, I fucking suck and you’re a nerd. If you open the door it’ll be easier to talk to you.”  
      “No, don’t open the door.”  
      “Will you help me?”  
      Ryan walked toward the door and leaned his shoulder on it, “do you really need my help?”  
      “Ugh, yes. If I was desperate enough to sleep with you I’d give you a better excuse. So, are you gonna help me or not?”  
      Ryan sighed. He didn’t want to do it. He needed to avoid him because he made him feel too good. He wanted to remain traditional, but this son of a bitch was making it was hard for him. He never even thought about how ‘good’ Brendon was, but now that’s all that went through his mind. This guy was giving him hell. He practiced saying no in his mind. He’s going to say no. It’ll hurt Brendon, but he had to do it. The word shot out of his throat; it held on to his lips. It gave him a bad taste in his mouth. “Yeah.”


	9. The Ball Said So (Andy/Joe)

Joe groggily woke up. It’s been a while since he had any sleep. Between gaming, reading, and scoping out collectibles, he had classes. He rolled to his side and got his phone. Andy had texted him, ‘wanna chill today?’  
      Joe pushed his face into his pillow and smiled. He finally texted back, ‘when and where?’ He finally got out of bed and got dressed for class. He made sure he took the long way there, as to not miss any texts from Andy.  
      During class, his phone vibrated against his leg. He pulled it out; ‘whenever you’re free, wherever you want.’  
      He thought about it for a second, then mentioned the Halloween party to him.  
      ‘I don’t drink, or smoke, at all. But the comic shop has 50% off all back issues.’  
      His professor called on him, “where did they test the Atomic bombs?”  
      He casually put his phone on his thigh, “other than Japan, New Mexico.” His professor nodded and continued the lecture.  
      He went back to his phone and agreed to go, and he replied ‘it’s a date.’  
      Holy shit. He used the rest of the time in class to try and comprehend what he meant by a ‘date.’ Date? Was it like a movie date with kisses in the dark? Or was it like a casual date that ended with ‘see you later’? Should he wear something casual? Control his hair? Cologne? The professor dismissed them and he ran out.  
      He finished all his classes by noon and sat on the fountain ledge. He always found it easier to think there. His phone buzzed and Pete was texting him; ‘you going to the party?’  
      After saying no, Joe explained he had a date, to which Pete replied with hearts and kissy emojis. He sighed and looked around. He wanted to ask Andy is he should wear something nice or not, but he didn’t want to seem like a dork. After a few minutes of looking at pets online, he decided to wear something casual but nice.  
  
On the night of the date, he put on a band shirt, jeans and fluffed his fro. He sprayed a bit of cologne and looked at himself in the mirror one last time. Just as he left, Andy was calling him. He didn’t want to seem desperate, so he let it ring a few times, “hello?”  
      “Joe, at the party, Brendon’s gonna do something stupid, we gotta see it!”  
      He smiled, “I thought you hated the smell of smoke.”  
      “Absolutely despise it, but this is a once in a college life chance to see it!”  
      “Do you know what he’s gonna do?”  
      “No fucking clue, but we gotta see it!”  
      He anticipated a quiet night with Andy alone, but he had to give in. He guessed it didn’t really matter, because he was going to be with Andy anyway, and that was the plan.

He met up with Andy on the front lawn - Andy was in a crossfit shirt and sweat pants, and more than happy to see him. They hugged, “Brendon’s upstairs! Let’s go!”  
      They rushed through the party and up the stairs. They got to the bedroom to find the whole crew and then some. Pete came off the balcony, “Andy help me get the ramp.”  
      Joe watched as Andy practically lifted the thing by himself. He’s like the goddamn Hulk, he thought, but smaller and much cuter. Joe went up to Brendon, “dude what if you break a leg or something?”  
      “It’s gonna be fucking awesome.”  
      Brendon got on his skateboard and turned to Andy, “push me hard, push me good, and push me true.”  
      Andy pushed him as hard as he could and he was launched off the balcony. They all ran out to the balcony to watch him land.  
      A hand passed Joe the moonshine and he air-sipped it. He passed it to someone who stood behind Andy and he laughed. Joe awkwardly pulled at his shirt and laughed with him.  
      After the spectacle, they moved downstairs and left the house. They talked about it and admired the stunt, “dude, we should get him drunk and tell him to do other stupid shit.”  
      Joe laughed, “definitely! But where’d he go though?”  
      They looked up and down the block and seen Ryan walk with him. “Wow, he looks hurt.”  
      “Should we go and see if he’s okay?”  
      Andy looked at them and squinted, “nah, he looks alright.”  
      They watched them disappear and stood on the lawn quietly. Joe rocked back and forth on his heels with his hands in his pocket. Andy rubbed his nose, “wanna go to the comic store?”

They walked in together and were greeted by a heavily tattooed woman with crazy colored hair. Joe looked around; the ambiance was great. It was quiet, almost empty, metal bands played in the air, and the endless rows of comic books allowed them to get lost together. They went down a few rows, recommended numerous series and got excited over new issues.  
      Joe grabbed a book and sat on the floor, his back against the shelf. He skimmed through the pages until Andy sat next to him with a Magic 8 Ball, “check this out.”  
      Joe looked attentively as he asked a question, “should I buy a comic book?” He shook it, “not today.”  
      Joe laughed, “so what are you gonna buy then?”  
      He smiled, “should I buy a collectible? Huh, no.”  
      “Let me see this thing.” He looked around for a good question to ask it, “should Andy buy me something?” He shook it and giggled, “yeah.”  
      “It doesn’t say that.”  
      “It does! Look.” He passed the ball to him, “damn. Well, should I buy Joe anything he wants from here, regardless of price?” He dropped his head back, “definitely.”  
      “Sweet! I’m getting free stuff!” They both stood up and dusted off their pants. Andy kept the ball with him as they walked through the aisles again. Andy passed it to Joe when he picked up a book, “should I get this one?” He shook it and dropped the book, “I guess that’s a no.”  
      Andy smiled and picked up another one, “should he get this one? Not today.”  
      “Will I get any books that I want?” He shook it a few times more, “indefinitely?”  
      Andy laughed, “maybe it’s not a book you want.”  
      Joe actually thought about it for a second, “you’re probably right. Let’s check out the other stuff.”  
      They went through collectibles, vinyls, figures and statues, asking which one should Joe get. After a series of no’s and sighs, they finally came to an agreement; Joe was not getting anything that night. They both picked up a book and went to the cashier. Right behind the counter on the wall, stood a replica chrome Stormtrooper statue. It stood tall, shiny and proud. It practically shone under the fluorescent bulbs; perfection.  
      He pointed to it, “how much is the Stormtrooper?”  
      The lady turned around, “hundred and twenty. Want it?”  He pulled out his wallet and got his credit card. Without struggle, she lifted it and wrapped it in layers of bubble wrap. “Well, there goes my weekend plans. And my book.”  
      Andy laughed, “no one told you to buy it now.”  
      “True.” He tried to pick it up, but almost dropped it; the thing weighed a ton. “Let me get it,” Andy intervened. He picked it up as if it were weightless. His sleeve rolled up a bit more and his whole tattoo became visible. Joe looked at it in pure awe; the colors and details were perfectly placed. He felt himself staring and awkwardly looked away as Andy paid for his stuff.  
      They walked down the block really close. Joe accidentally touched Andy’s hand and they both smiled sweetly, “I was just, uh, gonna ask if you need help with that?”  
      Andy heaved it up, “nope, I got it. Thanks, though.”  
      They walked down the dimly lit streets, shoulder to shoulder. Their conversation veered from comics to comic con, movies to conspiracies; it was the perfect night.  
      They got to the first dorm building, the one Joe resides. They walked up the few flights and entered Joe’s room; “I hope you don’t mind coming into my room. It’s just, you have my statue and -”  
      “No need to explain; I got you.” He put it on the corner table and looked at the room. Star Wars memorabilia, posters, figures, and a few bookshelves filled with comics and novels. “You read all these?”  
      Joe turned to the shelves, “the comics and a few books, but the books are Patrick’s.”  
      He walked up to the shelf and went through the books, occasionally picking one up and flipping through them. Joe stood behind him, “there's a lot to go through, so we can do this tomorrow and make another date.”  
      Andy smiled and put the book back, “sounds awesome, but I can’t do it tomorrow, I have a crossfit meet.”  
      “Ah,” Joe nodded, “so what is crossfit anyway?”  
      Andy turned around and lit up like a marquee on opening night, “its this group that’s pretty much like exercising, except we focus on aerobics, calisthenics and weightlifting! It’s pretty cool, you should come by sometime.”  
      “I, uh, don’t really work out often. I mean, I work out, but not like, you know, too much. I can’t just find the time to, uh, work out.”  
      Andy laughed, “you can just check it out! We have audiences all the time. And if you like it, maybe you could sign up.”  
      Joe rubbed the back of his neck and awkwardly laughed, “yeah totally. I mean, if it’s up to my standard, then I’ll think about it.”  
      “Sounds like a plan. See you later.”  
      Joe waved, “hopefully soon.”  
      Before he left, he poked his head in, “thanks for, you know, tonight. I had a really great time.”  
      “Me too. It was fun.”  
      They said goodbye and Joe slowly closed the door. He breathed out - the night was flawless. As he was walking to his bed, his eye caught his shelf; something had changed. He read each title and made sure they were in their place, until he seen one he didn’t recognize. He took it out; it was the book he picked up earlier, the one the Magic 8 Ball declined. He smiled and put it in a place all it’s own.  
      Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Outside the door, Andy was the holding the Magic 8 Ball, “I asked it if I should kiss you, and it said I should.”  
      Joe smiled, “well, we can’t argue with the ball.”  
      Andy’s face got red, “I didn’t realize how tall you were.”  
      “Sorry.”  
      He awkwardly moved closer and stood up on his toes and Joe laughed, “shut up and just kiss me.”  
      Joe pushed his lips against Andy’s and Joe’s head sang Hallelujah. Although it was short lived, their hearts fluttered in their chests as Andy came down. “Woah.”  
      Joe smiled widely, “that was -”  
      “Perfect.”  
      “More than that.”  
      Andy looked at his feet, “well, I guess we’ll see each other tomorrow?”  
      “Yeah, definitely.”  
      “Goodnight.”  
      “Night.”  
      Andy left and Joe slowly closed the door, his smile never leaving his face. He got into bed, losing time as he stayed awake; the day repeating in his mind. He wanted to relive it every day for the rest of his life, go on a million more dates, and cherish every second he spent with Andy. He wanted to spend forever with him, and then a few more eternities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the fuck where have I been idek but here I am  
> hey  
> sorry for being an ass ouch when was the last time i even updated this shit tf  
> but y'know  
> here it is


	10. Sick and Lonely (Frank/Gerard)

Frank’s phone woke him up. It was three in the morning and he was still hungover from the party just days ago. He picked up his phone and blocked his face from the dim light. Gerard was calling him, “hello?”  
      “Are you asleep?”  
      “Well,” he sat up, “not anymore. What’s up?”  
      He sniffled, “I need you to come to my house. I’m sick.”  
      “You’re a grown ass man, Gerard.”  
      “Shut the fuck up and come here. I have a fever and I can’t move.”  
      Frank smirked, “that’s what you get.”  
      “Are you coming or not?”  
      “I’m coming, hold on.”  
      “Yay.”  
      He hung up and stretched. Ryan was up too. “What’s up, Ry?”  
      Without looking at him, “thinking to much, I think.”  
      “Well, stop and get the fuck to bed; your finals are in a few weeks and you know nothing.”  
      “Okay,” he sighed. He crawled into bed and watched as Frank put on his sneakers and a hoodie. “Where you going?”  
      “Gerard’s sick and he needs me.”  
      “Don’t bring home whatever he's got. I don’t want it.”

Frank knocked on the door. His breath was white and sputtered as he breathed. Almost seven inches of snow fell just last night, so his pajama pants helped him with nothing as the merciless snow froze his legs, and with snow piled up, his sneakers didn’t help either.  
      He knocked on the door again and turned the knob. He was about to pull out his phone to call, but it slowly opened. He looked like a wreck.  
      “Jesus you look like shit.”  
      He struggled to shrug. His nose was red and his eyes were heavy and had dark rings around them. His hair was greasy and was lifeless under the hood of his hoodie and blanket cloak.  
      Frank walked in and the house was completely different. The couches weren’t against the walls, there was no bar, only stools at the kitchen island. It was clean, except for the holes, scratches and stains.  
      Gerard walked to the couch that faced a large TV and a fireplace that certainly wasn’t there before. He literally fell onto the couch with a raspy grunt, “can you get me aspirin? It’s on the little shelf above the sink.”  
      He walked in the kitchen and found the little shelf, holding nothing but a sugar jar, honey, medicine bottles and a chrome stormtrooper. He grabbed the aspirin and a glass of water and walked back to Gerard. He knelt down, “Gerard?”  
      He didn’t respond, so he nudged him, “I got the medicine.” Gerard was sleeping. He dropped his head and put the pills and water on the coffee table. He lied on the other couch and kicked off his sneakers, and after a few long minutes of staring at a few paintings on the wall, he went to sleep.  
      Hours later, when the sun actually rose, Gerard woke up to the smell of food. He struggled to push himself up and looked in the kitchen from behind the couch. Frank was making eggs and french toast. When he finished, he put them on plates and brought them along with syrup to the living room. Gee smiled sweetly, like a kid getting spoiled. “I didn’t know you could make french toast.”  
      “Yup, learned an hour ago.” He sat down next to him and turned on the TV. In silence, they watched animated Batman and gave commentary on Killer Croc and how he could be real. After they finished, Frank took the dishes back to the kitchen. When he returned, Gerard just stared at him, pulling at his blanket. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”  
      Yes. “No, not really,” he sighed, “it’s called infatuation.”  
      “But what if, when someone sees someone they like, their heart goes crazy? And they feel lik they got hit by a train. And their heads go crazy and get all mixed up?”  
      He shook his head.  
      “Okay,” he faced him, “but what if that person knows their flaws and does not think they’re perfect but is totally fine with that?”  
      “Then they’re not strangers,” he laughed, “so it’s not at first sight.”  
      “You’re so stubborn that’s not what I meant.”  
      “But,” Frank raised a finger and pulled a huge smile, “that’s what you implied.”  
      He shoved him playfully, “alright, then. What if, said person,” he lowered his voice, “is a stranger to the other, but had a mutual friend who told them everything about the other, flaws included. And never met until one day, and fell in love. Wouldn’t that be love at first sight?”  
      Frank looked at him and he stared back. He looked at his lips and contemplated whether or not he should kiss them. Looking back into Gerard’s eyes made of gold, he said, “would this person, hypothetically, show his love, from love at first sight, by giving the other a blowjob in an alley before a real, romantic first kiss?”  
      Gerard laughed, “probably not love at first sight. But maybe the person I’m talking about did an act similar to that for fun, but ended up thinking about the other a little too much, making him fall in love?”  
      “So, the fellatio wasn’t part of the love?”  
      “Maybe God intended to punish one with a sickness, but it only brought the two together.”  
      “Then God’s not very good at planning or discipline.”  
      Gerard smiled and put his hand on Frank’s cheek, “or maybe that was the plan all along.”  
      They leaned forward until they bump foreheads. Their smiles came together and they kissed. Gerard’s heart screamed and his brain thumped against his head. He felt Frank’s pulse on the tips of his fingers.  
      Frank’s brain just shut off. He had no thoughts, only feelings. He loved the way Gerard’s lips felt against his, and tried not to think about his bittersweet breath. His hair was sweaty but felt like silk between his fingers. What a beautiful mess.  
      Gerard held Frank’ lips between his teeth as they pulled away. Frank’s smirk made Gerard giggle. His hand lied on his thigh, but it wasn’t intimately. Frank smiled even bigger, “you better not have given me a fever or I’ll have to kick your ass.”  
      He laughed and sniffled; “honestly, I didn’t think you’d come when I called.”  
      “Why wouldn’t I come?”  
      He shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe because of what happened after the party.”  
      “Breakfast?”  
      “No, not breakfast,” he laughed, “it’s nothing.”  
      They sat quietly and played with their hands. Gerard broke the silence, “have any classes today?”  
      “Nope.”  
      “Wanna watch a movie?”  
      “As long as it’s not a romcom.”  
      “Romcoms aren’t that bad.”  
      Frank looked at him like he insulted his ancestors and they both laughed. As Gerard pulled up Netflix, Frank moved closer to him and put his head on his shoulder when he sat back. Gerard wrapped the blanket around the both of them and lied his head on Frank’s as the movie progressed. Before they got halfway, they fell asleep.  
      Around 3 in the afternoon, they woke up in pain. They rubbed their stiff necks and groaned, “that was cute and all, but never again.”  
      “Agreed.”  
      Frank rubbed his neck and stood up to stretch. By the back of his pants, Gerard pulled him back on the couch and straddled him. “Not sick anymore?”  
      He laughed, “nope.” He twirled his finger in his hair and kissed him again, then pushed his head against his shoulder; his blanket fell from his shoulders.  
      Frank grabbed onto his thighs and roughly pulled him to the side and lied him on the couch. He hovered over him and he smiled, “probably should have taken off your shirt first.”  
      Gerard snickered and pulled him in, “too late for that now.” His kiss pushed Frank back a little, and he pushed against him. Gerard’s hands ran warmly under Frank’s shirt, and pulled it off. “Jesus, it’s cold. Probably should’ve kept it on.”  
      Gee laughed and rolled to his side and draped the still-warm blanket over them, “happy?”  
      Frank wiggled, “very.” He helped Gerard take off his shirt and actually took a moment to take off each other’s pants.  
      Gerard sighed, “getting naked is exhausting work.”  
      Frank smiled, “that’s only the beginning. You got a condom?”  
      “Corner table,” he reached behind him and grabbed a condom from the drawer. He opened it up and threw it at his face. Frank squinched up his face pulled it off his cheek. He wiped the lube off his mouth, “don’t you ever find it weird that everyone somehow has a condom near them?” He rolled it on, “like, is it ever not next to you or in your pocket? It’s like they’re scattered all over to avoid unnecessarily long sex scenes or something.”  
      Gerard squared his eyebrows, “what? Just shut up and get going.”  
      Frank sighed and smirked. He started to kiss him again, then slowly slid himself inside him. His mouth hung open and a deep breath dispersed over Gerard’s bitten lip.  
      As he began to move quicker, Gerard’s head slowly leaned back with every thrust. He bit his lip harder and pulled Frank’s hair with one hand. The other held onto the curve of his back and pulled him in faster. His stomach started to twist when Gerard’s moans escaped his lips. Gee pulled Frank’s hair and bit his lips as he tried to keep himself quiet as he came, but his back arched and his mouth hung open. Frank bit his neck and moaned against his skin. He released his bite and breathed heavily against his shoulder. Frank got up and Gerard sat up with him. He threw Gerard’s underwear at him and put on his own.  
      They sat on the couch quietly panting, skin glowing with sweat. Frank smiled, “I’m starting to think you weren’t really sick.”  
      He laughed and dropped his head on Frank’s shoulder, “I was, really.”  
      Frank shook his head and pulled up the blanket and wrapped it around both their shoulders, cocooning them in fluff. Gerard kissed his shoulder, “let’s go to Brendon’s party during Spring Break.”  
      “Let’s get to Christmas first. And why is Spring Break talk happening now? It’s in March and November just started.”  
      “Because it’s gonna be the party of the millennium.”  
      “Really?”  
      “Yup. Graduation party. It’s gonna be in Mexico, so get your passport ready.”  
      Frank rolled his eyes, “how cliché.”  
      “But it’s gonna be fun!” He sat up and faced him. He traced his finger over his tattoos, “get a hotel for the weekend, go on a road trip, it’ll be kinda romantic.”  
      “I’m gonna be drunk all weekend.”  
      “Not while you drive.”  
      Frank groaned, “I’m not driving it’ll take forever!”  
      “Fine”, he sighed, “I’ll try to get cheap airline tickets.”  
      “And I’ll pay you back.”  
      “Of course.” Gerard smiled and poked him, “we just met and we’re going on vacation together.”  
      “Well,” he held his hand, “when the time comes we would’ve known each other for, like, 6 months.”  
      “True.”

Frank walked back to his dorm and found Pete, Brendon, and Joe in the center of his room with notepads - “Hello.”  
      Bren raised his hand and Joe nodded. “Dude, you gonna bring someone to Mexico for Spring Break?” Pete flashed the scribbled writing before hiding it, “it’s all gonna be a surprise!”  
      “Where’s Ryan?”  
      “You bringing Gerard? You guys seem pretty close.”  
      “Yeah. Does Ryan know ab- ”  
      “Perfect,” Pete wrote in the book. “We all have dates.”  
      “So Ryan’s going?”  
      “Well,” Joe started, “technically yes.”  
      “He’s going,” Brendon intervened, “but I never told him about it. I’m bringing Spencer along if he’s down.”  
      “Wait - so Ryan is ‘going’, but no one has told him yet?”  
      “We don’t know where he is.”  
      They all stood there quietly, awkwardly looking around. “Doesn’t he have any classes,” Brandon broke the silence.  
      “No.”  
      “So,” Joe shrugged, “should we be worried?”  
      They all looked at Frank, “I dunno. I mean, he’s a grown ass man, so -”  
      Ryan burst into the room, red faced, sweaty and out of breath. He ran to the window, “guys look!”  
      They walked to the window, “what are we supposed to be looking at?”  “That!” He pointed toward the campus square. The American flag was replaced with a pair of familiar pants.  
      Joe laughed, “those are pants!”  
      Pete stared, “those are my pants!” Brendon -”  
      He laughed, “I threw them at him,” he pointed at Frank.  
      Frank pointed to Ryan, “gave them to him.”  
      “Guys,” Pete said with mock sorrow but with legitimate sadness, “those are my favorite jeans.”  
      “And now everyone will see your favorite pair of jeans.”  
      They marveled at the pants swaying in the wind, with ‘Ryan’ crudely painted on it. Frank turned to them, “guys?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “None of you live here how did you get in?”  
      The three looked at each other, “looks like we’re done planning for now, let’s get back to our dorms.”  
      The group left, but before the door shut, Brendon poked his head in, “I left something for you, Ryan. Check under the bed.”  
      The door shut quietly, leaving both of them speechless. Ryan checked under his bed and he pulled out a box and paused before opening it, “I’m scared.”  
      “Why?”  
      “Because I tutor Brendon now.”  
      He stuffed his mouth with last night’s pizza, “so?”  
      “Never mind.” He slowly opened the box and peeked inside. Upon seeing whatever was inside, he quickly shut it and pushed it back under the bed.  
      “What is it?”  
      “Something Brendon would give to me.” He sighed and stood back up, “he’s an asshole.”  
      “You doing anything for Spring Break?”  
      “I thought we were all going to Mexico.”  
      “We are. Brendon didn’t ask?”  
      “He’s never brought it up, why?”  
      “Oh, well, because he doesn’t know you know about it.”  
      “Oh.” Ryan awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What do I do?”  
      “I don’t know. Go with Brendon? You ask him to go with you.”  
      Ryan rolled his yes and sighed. He lied on his bed and stared at the ceiling. “He’s such an ass and I hate him but if I don’t go or go with nobody I will never hear the end of it.”  
      “This is true, but I don’t see the big deal. Just go as friends.”  
      Ignoring the last statement, he pulled out his phone and began a text to Brendon. He hesitated, thinking bout every possible scenario, then finally sent it. Minutes later, he texted back, ‘sure. We’re flying in tho.’  
      ‘Thats fine.‘ He looked up at Frank, who was texting someone; “Why do I put myself in these horrible situations?”  
      “Because you like him,” he teased.  
      “Fuck off I don’t.”  
      Frank shrugged, “you're literally making out with him every study session.”  
      “That was one time.”  
      “Admit it.”  
      “Fuck off.”  
      “He’s already admitted it.”  
      Ryan stared at him totally dumbfounded, “what?”  
      “Do you like him?”  
      “Wh-” he made vague hand gestures, “I don’t know, maybe, only a little. When did he say that?”  
      Frank smiled, “never.”  
      “Fuck you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so very 10 chapters would be the end of a part or something (like Marvel and their 'phases'). Long story short, each new 'phase' has a different major event. Phase 1, obvs was the Halloween party, so phase 1 is done (yay). And no, I won't tell you which phase tells their beautiful Spring Break adventures (the Spring Break chapters are gonna be hella long so prepare yourselves). Thank you for your support and please, feel free to kill me bc this is one commitment I can't get out of unless I die (or maybe even then I could still write? Who knows!)


	11. Bleeding Skies (Pete/Patrick)

Patrick woke up to a bad hangover. His head throbbed and he held a bad taste in his mouth. He slowly turned to face Pete, whose back faced him. He kissed his shoulder and rolled onto his back. Pete rolled into Patrick, then on top of him. “Pete -”  
      Patrick tried to roll away but his face was squished into his pillow, “Pete?”  
      Pete started laughing, “good morning Patrick.”  
      “Pete, get off.”  
      “No thanks.” He placed a kiss on the back of his neck, “I like this view.”  
      Patrick lifted his face from the pillow and turned his face to the side, “Pete if you’re trying to be cute it’s not working.”  
      Pete giggled, “you suck.”  
      He scoffed, “I can’t breathe and I think your dick is trying to stab me.”  
      He laughed even harder, “I can’t help morning wood.” He bit Patrick’s ear, “but you can.”  
      “Pete -” Patrick tried to push him off by raising him hips. He tried to prop his hips up with his knees but Pete kept pulling his leg.  
      “Patrick if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick I’m gonna have to fuck you.”  
      Patrick giggled, “stop it, jesus christ.” He pushed his hip against him again and Pete wrapped his arm around his waist and rubbed against him. Patrick bit his lip at the sound of Pete’s quiet groan.  
      Patrick jerked his hips up and Pete pushed harder against him. Pete pulled off his own shirt while Patrick struggled to take his off. He tried rolling over but Pete pushed him back, “I told you, I like the view.”  
      Patrick scoffed and finally threw his shirt on the floor, then unbuttoned his pants and stressfully shimmied out of them. Pete turned around to find Brendon passed out on the floor in his underwear. “We have to be quiet,” he whispered.  
      Patrick nodded and reached for the condom that just happened to be on the bookshelf right next to the bed. He passed it to Pete and whispered rather loudly, “hurry up I have class.”  
      Pete poked his side and he laughed, but then swatted at him, “cut that shit out it tickles.”  
      Pete rolled on the condom and wrapped his arm around Patrick’s waist, pulling him up. He propped himself on his knees and pushed his face into the pillow, biting it as Pete slowly slid himself inside him.  
      Pete held on to his hips as he quickened the pace, making Patrick moan against the pillow. He pushed himself against Pete and began to get louder, so he bit into his arm harder with every thrust.  
      Pete bent over him and placed sloppy kisses across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, softly biting the graceful curves Patrick seemed to be all about. The moans against his skin sent Patrick white-knuckling the sheets, almost drenched in sweat. He groaned against the pillow as he came, and a few more thrusts were enough to send Pete into climax.  
      Pete collapsed on the bed and rolled Patrick over, who was red faced and panting, he was such a mess Pete couldn’t help but to laugh.  
      From the center of the room, Brendon poked his head up, “could you guys be a bit louder, and last longer next time? I was really close.”  
      Patrick smiled and buried his embarrassed face under the covers.  
      “It’d go a lot better if you join us,” Pete laughed. Patrick jabbed at his arm, “stop it Pete, you’re embarrassing,” he whispered from under the comforter.  
      Brendon scoffed, “it’s a date then.” He got up off the floor and looked through his phone.  
      “What’s up?”  
      He shrugged, “nothing,” he smiled widely, “Ryan’s texting me.” He threw his phone on the couch, “I’m getting breakfast, want anything? Or did Pete already fill you up?”  
      Patrick giggled and poked his face out, making Pete laugh, “I got breakfast covered.”  
      Pete lied on his back and faced Patrick, whose cheeks still flamed red, stretched with that cute embarrassed smile Pete absolutely loved. He bopped his nose, “you’re such a prude.”  
      “No, I am not. I don’t necessarily find you asking people to ‘join us‘ next time comfortable.” He laughed, “but I don’t know which is more embarrassing, another member or an audience.”  
      “What? Polygamy’s great, man; especially if it’s only for one night.” He placed a kiss on his tiny nose, “what do you want for breakfast, prude?”  
      “Whatever’s fine.”  
      “Cool. I got a warm dick that hasn’t been eaten for a while.”  
      Patrick thumped his forehead, “you’re a jerk. Keep breakfast PG 13.” He rose from the bed and found his dress pants.  
      “You have a cute ass.”  
      He let out a breath of laughter, “you just noticed?”  
      “Well,” he sat up, “I didn’t get time to examine it earlier.” He got up and threw his boxers at him, “need this?”  
      He buttoned his pants, “nope, but I’ll take them home.”  
      As Pete put on his clothes, he picked up a ball of hair, “I found my wig.” He tossed it on the bed and went motionless. “Pete?”  
      He raised his finger, “I just remembered where I had to take you.”  
      “For breakfast?”  
      He smiled and turned to him, “and you’re gonna love it.”

Pete held Patrick’s hand as he walked with him. He was blindfolded with a moist sock that Pete ‘promised’ wasn’t cum, but it was. It was Brendon’s, that he got from Spencer, who, in fact, gave it to him filled with cum for a purpose unknown.  
      Patrick kept asking questions, and Pete kept telling him to stay quiet. Finally, they stopped and Pete took off the cum-sock blindfold. They stood in front of a huge metal door. “Pete?”  
      “Just go through it you shit.” He opened the door and held it open as he climbed the few steps. Thy were on the roof of the dorm. Patrick looked around, “what are we doing up here?”  
      Pete put a cinder block at the base to prevent the door from closing (turns out, it doesn’t open from the outside, and Brendon was the poor bastard that had to be part of the reenactment of The Hangover) and patted Patrick’s shoulder, “look around and you’ll find it.”  
      Patrick looked around confused. It was only minutes until the sun unearthed itself, so one end of the sky was a deep, pale blue and the other was stained yellow, but faded into the blue. The November morning welcomed a cool breeze that refused to sting anyone who was up early enough to feel it. Students from last night’s party headed back to their dorms; nothing seemed to make sound, only the dry leaves dancing around the cement seemed to be animate.  
      He turned to face the stained sky, and there it was. An empty table with an empty vase in the center. He walked toward it and caught the cardboard place cards lined with yellow construction paper lace. Written poorly were their names and Patrick couldn’t help but to smile.  
      The table was draped in a white cloth that looked and felt like a shower curtain. He laughed at the thought of Pete tearing down a shower curtain (while Brendon was showering, of course) and putting it on that Ikea corner table. He looked over at Pete, who was smiling like a loser because he knew Patrick knew the little Ikea table was under a shower curtain he took from the dorm bathroom. He knew he’d like it. “Pete -”  
      “Did you see everything?” He pointed out to the view and Patrick was thrown speechless.  
      The sun hid behind the clocktower directly ahead, pressing light between every crease and open space. The tower was painted black, and the pearl white clock face (illuminated by it’s own light) gave attention to it’s hand and numbers.  
      The fountain below began to fill it’s base as water fanned from the top and fell like translucent silk. The water shimmered lightly with the light of the path lamps shining over it. The spotted trees waved and rustled as they dropped their weightless leaves all over the campus. Everything was a deep undertone of it’s true color, but their details prevailed nonetheless. He had never seen the campus so early. He took it all in and felt the entire horizon fill up his lungs. Patrick thought nothing else in the entire world could compare to a campus at dawn. “I told you.”  
      Patrick turned to him. His eyes glittered like the galaxies they were. They were much more brighter and sweeter now than ever. He tried to see something beyond his reflection in his eyes, but they captured him perfectly, like a photograph from a new camera. He went silent.  
      Pete’s eyes lit up like whiskey on a windowsill. They were filled with admiration and passion and focused on one person and one person only, because nothing else in the world mattered. Not in this moment, at least, not in these eyes.  
      Patrick took his hand in his and pushed his lips to Pete’s, and Pete couldn’t help but to melt in the palm of his hands. It seemed like they were bound together forever, hand in hand, with their heart beating in a synchronized dance that would never end.  
      They pulled away, and with their eyes closed, their foreheads leaned against each other, and their noses occasionally bumped with every breath. Pete held Patrick’s hands in his, wrapping his fingers in between his and holding on tightly. Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but instead, he sneezed and his forehead bashed into Pete’s, making him let go and cover the pain, “Jesus Christ, Patrick.”  
      Patrick’s giggle was high pitched, and it wasn’t long until his laugh was full body and loud. He rubbed his forehead and bent over to hold onto his stomach, which stung as he lost his breath. Pete laughed with him, and the two laughed uncontrollably until their laughs became uncontrollable giggles. Patrick looked up at Pete and giggled as he tried to find the best words that would suit the situation. “Sorry?”  
      Pete giggled and pulled out Patrick’s chair, “just sit.”  
      Pete sent a text and almost immediately, a random student came up with trays of food, covered with metal domes. The kid lifted the domes, revealing chocolate chip pancakes. Then, Pete grabbed coffee from under the table (kept warm with a hotplate of course) and a metal rose, which he handed to Patrick. “It’s metal.”  
      “Yeah, I was gonna get you a real one, but I realized it would die in a week. So, a metal one to last forever.”  
      Patrick’s face flushed as he put it in the vase. Realizing the vase was way too big for the table, he took it off and put it on the floor next to the table. He looked at the view again; unchanged, but the sun is threatening to fly higher. He looked at his heart shaped pancakes and smiled. “It was a bitch to make them heart shaped,” Pete added, “but there’s nothing Buzzfeed can’t teach me.”  
      Patrick smiled widely, “I have no idea what to say, Pete.”  
      Pete wrapped his legs around Patrick’s, “you don’t need to say anything. And your pancakes might taste a bit rose-y.”  
      “Why?”  
      “Brendon spilled a little bit of rose water in the batter.”  
      Patrick squared his brows, “why does -”  
      “Forget about him. Eat.”  
      Patrick smiled, “Pete?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes feel free to kill me. I've been writing other fanfics to get the creative juices flowing which is why I've fallen off the earth but here you go don't hurt the face.


	12. Tutoring Done Right (Brendon/Ryan)

Ryan woke up and stared at the ceiling. He seemed to be doing that a lot, he realized. He rolled over and literally crawled out of bed. His knees thumped as he fell, and he picked up his phone from the floor and the first thing he saw was a text from Brendon; ‘start at 4, leave at 5, tues wed thurs?’  
      ‘perfect.’ He wanted to throw himself out of the window, but thought it shouldn’t be too bad. Clearly, Brendon cared about school, so tutoring is all that would be happening.  
      He stood up; Frank wasn’t there. “Great.”

In class, he couldn’t focus on anything other than the Halloween party the night before. He remembered the tingling feeling he got when Brendon kissed his neck. He thought about the way he rubbed himself against him - the way he moaned against the curve of his neck. He loved every second of it. He wanted it to last forever.  
      The moment class ended, he ran to his next class. He tried to forget about him, even for a second, but even he had to admit, that ass was unforgettable. Class after class, he got more excited to see him.  
      When his last class ended, he quickly paced to his dorm. In thirty minutes, Brendon would show up to his door. That jerk.  
      He threw his bag on the floor and stood there. Frank still wasn’t back. “Shit.”  
      He started to think about Brendon grinding on him; his moans, his sweat. The way his lips sucked at his skin with each kiss. He bit his lip thinking about it and before he knew it, his hand was in his pants.  
      He leaned against the door and arched his back at the touch of his hand on his hard-on. He closed his eyes and imagined Brendon’s fingers wrapped around him. He breathed heavily as he stroked himself faster and faster, biting his lip to keep his moans from escaping. He ran his fingers through his hair as he felt his stomach tense up. He knew Bren wouldn’t stop until he was completely done. As he was about to cum, there was a knock on the door. He took his hand out of his pants and jumped off the door, “yeah?”  
      “It’s Frank, open up.”  
      Frank was still in his suit from last night’s party and smelled like breakfast. He was still hungover, “man, it was a long, incredible night. You should’ve got drunk with me last night.”  
      Ryan acted like he wasn’t just masturbating and scoffed, “no thanks. Where have you been?”  
      He jumped on his bed, “out and about, doing adult stuff. You wouldn’t understand. What’ve you been up to?”  
      Jerking off to the thought of my horny neighbor giving me a handjob. “Nothing, really, just school.  
      Frank hummed, “oh and I heard you’re tutoring Brendon now.”  
      “Yeah.”  
      “Good luck with that.”

Tuesday came a lot quicker than Ryan had hoped. He was extremely embarrassed that he masturbated to the thought of Brendon and wanted to throw himself into the void where his high school self resided.  
      He sat on the couch and started writing his paper, coming up with an eternity’s worth of scenarios that all ended with sex, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Disturbed by Brendon yelling something vulgar to another student down the hall, he got up and let him in.  
      For the first half hour, they were actually doing math. They sat next to each other on the couch, and Ryan tried to explain how to do his homework. He used terms and references to help him remember formulas. Right at 4:30, they decided to take a break.  
      They both were on their phones completely surrounded by silence. Brendon lifted his head and leaned back so he could face him, one foot on the couch, “wanna play have you ever?”  
      Ryan looked at him, “what?”  
      “Have you ever? It’s where I ask you if you’ve ever done something and you either say yes or no. Usually I like to include hard liquor in this game, but it’s not even seven. So we’ll just go back and forth.”  
      Ryan turned off his phone and leaned on the other end of the couch, with one foot up as well. “Alright,” he got comfortable, “you go first.”  
      “Okay, uh,” he looked up and around the room, “have you ever watched your roommate jerk off?”  
      Ryan laughed, “what?!”  
      “Answer the question!”  
      “No,” Ryan giggled, “I have never watched Frank jerk off. I’m guessing you have?”  
      Brendon let out a loud ‘hah’, “it was for science.”  
      “For science?”  
      “We both wanted to see if he could cum if someone watched him intensively.”  
      “Did he?”  
      “Nah. He said he felt like I was a sexual predator.”  
      Ryan laughed and pulled his shirt down, “freak. Now it’s my turn.” He pursed his lips as he thought of something. “Have you ever kissed anyone because you really, really loved them?”  
      “Like, true love type shit?”  
      “Yeah.”  
      He shook his head, “I’ve never been in love.”  
      After a moment of silence, Ryan scoffed, “never been in love?”  
      He smirked, “never. Have you?”  
      “Been in love?”  
      “Yeah.”  
      Ryan sat up, “ a few times.”  
      Brendon sat up in shock, “a few?! You’ve been in love more than once? Aren’t those just called crushes, though?”  
      He shrugged, “ I dunno, yeah, I guess.”  
      Brendon sneered at him, “have you ever romantically kissed any of them?”  
      “Nope.”  
      “Never?”  
      Ryan shook his head.  
      “So you’ve kissed them for what reason if not because you’re having sex?”  
      Ryan went silent, “I think we should continue our work.”  
      Brendon stared at him and tapped his fingers against his knee. Ryan slowly turned to face him, “what?”  
      He pulled a smirk, “have you ever kissed anyone before?”  
      “Brendon -”  
      “Last question, promise. Have you?”  
      Ryan rolled his eyes and put the books back on the table, “why?”  
      “Because I wanna know. And if you tell me something, I’ll tell you something.”  
      “I know you’ve kissed someone before.”  
      “I know you know. I’m saying I’ll tell you something you don’t know about me.”  
      Letting curiosity get the best of him, “no, I have not kissed anyone.”  
      Brendon smiled, “seriously!?.”  
      “Fuck off.”  
      His smile died out, “holy shit, you’ve never kissed anyone.”  
      “So? It’s not the end of the world. Now tell me something about you I don’t know.”  
      Brendon opened his mouth but closed it again, “shit.” He looked around the room and rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re not gonna believe me.”  
      “Tell me anyway.”  
      He sighed, “well, I may or may not have a tiny, microscopic crush on you. It’s so little, it’s like it’s not even there.”  
      Ryan blinked at him, “okay.”  
      “See! I told you you wouldn’t believe me!” After a moment, he added, “I guess it’s not mutual.”  
      Ryan tried to look at anything else. He knew if he looked at him, he’d confess everything, and god forbid he makes anything easier. While he looked at his phone, hoping for a text, Brendon played with his fingers, occasionally looking up at Ryan to see a reaction. “I don’t not like you.”  
      Brendon’s face lit up, “yeah?”  
      Ryan smiled and dragged his head to face him, “yeah.”  
      Brendon scoffed and whispered ‘thank god’ to himself.  
      Ryan opened his mouth and froze. Brendon looked at him, "what?"  
      He closed his mouth, but finally spoke, "I still don't know how to kiss."  
      He laughed, "I'll teach you. Just face me and do what I say."  
      Ryan nodded and sat crosslegged on the couch and Brendon did the same. "I'll kiss you, right, then you do exactly what you felt to me."  
      He leaned over and kissed his unmoving lips a few times; "now, do that to me."  
      Ryan awkwardly leaned over and tried to do exactly what he felt, but Bren pushed him away a little - "you're trying to kiss me, not suck my soul. Don't open your mouth so big."  
      He laughed and did it again. He pulled away, "how was that?"  
      Brendon licked his lips, "better. Now let's do it at the same time. We both tilt our heads right."  
      He nodded and smiled. He tilted his head, but the first kiss was sloppy, but neither pulled away. Brendon ran his fingers through Ryan's hair, which made him pull away. Brendon's facial expression said sorry, but Ryan pulled him in by his shoulders for another kiss.  
      The kissing ended and they both stared at each other. Bren's hand lied on his cheek, "that was perfect," he breathed heavily. He pushed his lips on his', and his heavy kiss pushed Ryan on his back and he lied on top of him.  
      Ryan’s legs stood on either side of his waist and pulled him closer to him. One hand held on to the curve of his back and the other ran across his chest. He took his lips from Brendon's and turned his head, making him drag his lips down his neck. His lips were followed by his teeth that trailed down his neck, leaving red lines. He jerked his hips controllably, making Brendon pull his skin between his teeth.  
      Brendon started grinding against him, moaning against his lips. Ryan tried to keep kissing him, but his mouth hung open as he gave in. Their hips dragged against each other and his back arched as he tried not to cum.  
      Brendon softly bit his lip, then kissed his ear breathed heavily in his ear. Ryan dug his fingers into his back and rolled his head back. He felt Brendon smile against his skin; and swore he said ‘cum for me’.  
      Brendon’s smile grew even bigger as he dragged himself harder against him. Ryan bit his lip hard and arched his back, and when he grunted in his ear, Ryan came immediately.  
      Brendon stopped, shot up at looked at him, and Ryan's face was red with embarrassment. He laughed, and Ryan awkwardly smiled with him.  
      He lied on top of him, neither were saying anything, but they both knew exactly what the other was thinking. They kissed again, and the door opened. Brendon shot up and Ryan sat up wiping his lips. Frank looked at the both of them with a brow raised, “did I interrupt something?”  
      “Only our tutoring session,” Brendon quickly spat out.  
      Frank looked at Ryan, whose face was still a bit red and nodded, “well, it’s almost 6, I thought you would have already left.”  
      Both of them looked at their phones; “guess we lost track of time.”  
      “I bet,” Frank said sarcastically.  
      He packed up his stuff, “see you tomorrow.”  
      Ryan waved and Brendon left. The second the door closed, Frank looked at Ryan. “What?”  
      “You guys did stuff,” he smiled.  
      “Studying, homework mostly -”  
      “More stuff,” he threw his hoodie at him.  
      “Frank -”  
      He held his hand up, “no need to explain. I’ve been on a few study dates myself, except we actually never studied. Most of the time we didn’t even have our stuff.”  
      “We didn’t have sex, Frank.”  
      “Oh, I know that. It was foreplay.”  
      “No, we -”  
      Frank sat down next to him and smiled, “did you guys get hands-y?”  
      Ryan rolled his eyes and was beginning to get frustrated because he kept interrupting him, “Frank, we did -”  
      “Did you cum? I bet you did you fucking virgin.”  
      “Frank -”  
      “Wait!”  
      “No!”  
      “Did he tickle your pickle?”  
      Ryan looked at him totally caught off, “what?”  
      “You know,” he giggled as he made a jerking off motion, “grab the hose? Rub the snake? Get a hold of your di -”  
      “Frank no! Jesus christ! We only studied that was it!” He got off the couch and crawled into bed. “If you say so,” Frank added.  
      After a few minutes drowning in silence, “Frank?”  
      “Yes Ryan?”  
      “We had a hot make out session.”  
      Frank snickered, “I know, Ryan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is one of my faves honestly) I'm trying to get out a chapter each week (and I may take a lil hiatus from posting at the end of April - going to a different country for 2 weeks, shitty wifi; you get it) so I'll try to post as many as I could now t make up for lost times  
> Thank you for putting up with me bc I'm a hot mess


	13. The Most Dangerous Being in the World (Andy/Joe)

Olympic weightlifting. Holy shit what does that even mean? Joe had a thousand different versions of 'olympic weightlifting'. He thought of huge, steroid filled men and brolic women with thighs can can kill a person. Then he remembered how Andy looked. He was average sized and squishy; nothing to be feared but don't anger him because he could break your neck with his finger and thumb (but he wouldn't because he's too sweet, Joe argued).  
      They reached a huge track field, the center scattered with weights and benches, dumbbells, protein shakes and ropes. Joe had seen muscle men he'd expected and very brolic women. Some lied on benches, jumped and stretched. They were huge compared to Andy, but Joe didn't even think for a second he couldn't do what these people were capable of.  
      "Alright, you gotta sit a certain distance," Andy pointed to a small crowd, "so no one gets injured."  
      "But what if you get injured?" Joe asked even though he knew he wouldn't; he just liked to see Andy smile.  
      "I won't. I've been doing this for a while." He vaguely raised his hand, "Brendon's over there you can sit next to him."  
      Joe looked over into the crowd and, well, he was there. "He only comes a few times to hit on some of the members but none are interested in him," Andy laughed. "But he swears he doesn't marvel at us."  
      Joe scoffed, "what a prick. Whatever, just be careful babe - no, uh, shit -"  
      Andy laughed, "go sit down or you'll get heatstroke in November."  
      Joe's impulse reaction was to touch his face to see if it was hot (to Andy's amusement) and it wasn't. He awkwardly smiled and they split.  
      Joe didn't sit next to Brendon (who was in the middle of a very intense stare off with a woman who was on the verge of throwing a weight at him) and sat at the end of the crowd. He watched Andy as he stretched and talked with the other members.  
      The audience wasn't far from the athletes. They could talk to each other from where they were without yelling.  
      Andy made sure Joe was watching as he rolled weights on a bar. These weights were huge, more than fifty pounds each. "Guess the weight", Andy said excitedly.  
      Joe turned and leaned to find any weight numbers, but they were scratched off. He shrugged, "hundred?"  
      Andy gave a 'hah', "close. It's three."  
      Joe's eyes widened as he watched Andy deadlift the weights without ease. He bent, keeping his back straight, and lifted as he stood straight up. He held it in his hands and smiled as he watched Joe went totally mute. "Holy shit."  
      Andy laughed and put the weights down, "I could add a few more, but now I'm just warming up."  
      He mouthed 'warming up' and scoffed, "can you lift a car?"  
      Andy smiled as grabbed a jump rope, "not yet." At first, he jumped normally, but then he started to swing the rope faster until it spun under him twice.  
      Joe marveled at the skill he had. Who knew you could swiftly jump and have the rope past you twice before you hit the ground. After a few minutes of that, he paused and wiped the few beads of sweat on his forehead.  
      He flicked his hands to loosen them up so he can amaze Joe even more. "This is 150," he pointed to his bar. He squatted down, and lifted the bar without struggle. He stood up with the bar against his chest and then, with a swift huff, he held it over his head. He held it for, it seemed like forever, but it was actually ten seconds. It fell to his chest, then it dropped to the grass.  
      He let out a quick ‘whew’ and loosened his arms. He looked over at Joe to see how he was handling it; Joe was dumbstruck. His mouth gaped open and his eyes were wide open. Andy laughed; "wanna try?"  
      He came back to life, "oh, god no." He got back his cool, "I like to watch you, not in like a weird way, in a totally... not weird way."  
      Andy laughed and Joe got red.  
      He removed the weights and rolled huge ones on. He rolled a few more on. Jesus christ, if Superman were to descend to destroy Earth, he'd run from Andy. "Deadlift - 300."  
      Well shit.  
      He bent forward, grabbed the bar, ran his fingers in a line, and huffed. The strenuous lift was clearly heard - and seen. His face grew faintly red.  
      The bar stayed stationed in front of his hips. He held it there longer than Joe could fathom. He leaned forward a bit and dropped. A loud, deep thud, mixed with the sharp sound of metals hitting rung in his ears. Andy wiped off the sweat from his forehead and let out a deep breath.  
      He was sweaty, tired, probably sore, and sleeveless. Jesus christ he was beautiful. The color in his tattoos were now prominent as the sun illuminated his entire body. He looked like an angel sent from the Heavens (Joe concluded that he, in fact, was an actual angel).  
      He watched him attentively as he cooled himself off. He drank water and poured it over his head. He was pretty much soaked and he ringed out his shirt and wiped his face with cloth. He jogged to Joe, "that's it for the day! What do you think?"  
      Andy helped him get up, "I didn’t know the most dangerous being in the world was also the cutest."  
      Andy laughed at the remark; he totally loved how lame it was.  
      "Also, I thought you were practicing? Or were you just showing me what you could do?"  
      He held his hands up, "you're right!" He smiled bashfully, "I just wanna woo you."  
      "You succeeded because I am very much wooed."  
      It fell silent but it wasn't awkward, not like before. They necessarily didn't enjoy the silence, but it was accepted as part of a growing relationship.  
      Joe blurted out, "do you speak any other languages?"  
  
In Joe's room (after a lazy but successful attempt to kick Patrick out) Andy went through his Star Wars crap, lightly stroking the fine details in Jabba the Hutt's stomach. He stared at the line drawing of the Millennium Falcon and traced the line with his eyes, trying to see if it really was drawn with a single continuous line.  
      Joe pulled up a movie, "The Notebook, in Japanese."  
      Andy turned to him, "I still don't get it -"  
      "A movie we haven't seen before in a different language; we try to guess what it's about and guess the dialogue."  
      "Yeah I got that, but why?"  
      Joe shrugged, "because it's funny to see how wrong we are at the end! Could it be romance? Action? Drama? Who knows?! No one until the end, when we actually look it up."  
      He laughed, "I guess that would be a fun date."  
      Datedatedatedatedatedate. It rang through Joe's head like a bell. Were they even dating? Is this a date? Was the crossfit thing a date? Joe was never this confused about anything.  
       Andy considered the crossfit thing and this dates. He didn't need to ask Joe to go out with him because he knew he'd say yeah, and the kiss was to seal the deal.  
      They sat on the couch and pulled the blanket over them. It was only three in the afternoon, but with the shades down, curtains closed, and the lights off, it was midnight.  
      The popcorn sat between them in a hammock of blanket and the soda was on the floor. They cozied up real close and Andy put his head on his shoulder.  
      As the movie progressed, they concluded it was a dramatic romance about an old author telling an old lady a really long story about people falling in love. They tried to mimic their lips and come up with the dialogue.  
      At the end of the movie, when the old people were dancing (whom they agreed were together), Andy looked up at Joe and he didn't seem to notice. He sighed happily and and resumed watching the movie.  
      Joe noticed, but didn't want to move and make him uncomfortable. He just hugged him tighter under his arm and waited for the credits to roll by.  
      Andy sat up and stretched, and Joe did the same. They stared blankly, and when they left their trance, they laughed. Joe pulled the laptop on his lap and researched the movie. Andy sat next to him and watched him.  
      Joe scoffed, "it was about this lady getting Alzheimers and not remembering her husband."  
      "Close enough."  
      Joe laughed, "and the story was them. He wrote everything in a notebook."  
      "How romantic," Andy teased. He wasn't being sarcastic but he wasn't not being sarcastic.  
      Joe shook his head and closed the laptop and put it on the table. He looked over at Andy and almost instantaneously Andy pushed his lips against his. He smiled against his lips and laughed when he pulled away, "did the Magic 8 ball tell you to do that?"  
      Andy blushed, "not necessarily. I asked siri."  
      Joe laughed and kissed him again. They were passionate and deep, and Andy's hand was cutting circulation off of Joe's leg, so Joe had to move him quick.  
      He wasn't sure what had happened for it to be like this, but he was on top of him and all he could think about was 'whoops shitshitshitshit'. Andy didn't mind, not until he hooked onto his waistband, "woah."  
      "Woah."  
      Andy smiled, "no."  
      "No?"  
      "Yes. No."  
      "Oh no."  
      "Yeah."  
      Joe got off of him and he sat up, "sorry."  
      "Nah, it's cool. I'm not a virgin or anything; I think I'm asexual."  
      "You think?"  
      "Yeah."  
      "Why don't you know?"  
      Andy shrugged, "I've had sex and it was great, but I like cuddling more than sex."  
      Joe squared his brows, "so no sex?"  
      "Not yet, at least."  
      "Totally, I totally got it I can wait. I'll wait forever if I have to."  
      Andy laughed, "well it's not gonna take forever. I'm not Ryan."  
      "Yo what is up with him he practically had sex with Brendon."  
      He giggled, "I dunno. Can't judge, though. People need time."  
      "Definitely."  
      Awkward silence. Joe pursed his lips and looked around, and Andy tapped his knees. "So..."  
      "Yeah." Joe looked at him, "is the date over?"  
      "Uhh, I think so."  
      They both stood up and Joe opened the door, "well, see you whenever."  
      Andy gave him a quick kiss on his lips, "see you whenever." He left and Joe closed the door. He braced himself against it and sighed; "I'm such an idiot."  
      Andy walked down the stairs and went to the fountain; he lied down, "god I'm an idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm back in the states (yay) and this was the only CS chapter written fml.  
> I've started this chapter right after I posted chapt 11 (I had chapt 12 already finished - editing is a bitch) and it took excruciatingly long bc I broship Trohley and not sexually rn but someone out there does so......  
> Also Joe may or may not have seen The Notebook (in english) before.......


	14. The Story Has a Cat Found Before Christmas Which Had No Signifigance Other Than Being a Cat (Frank/Gerard)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you notice my laziness with title making?

Frank sat in his dorm alone; Ryan was off with Brendon, leaving him with nothing but his homework. He didn't have any plans for Christmas, not even for New Years either. A quiet winter break was in store for him, or at least he thought it was.   
      Loud banging from his door scared him; "open quickly!"  
      He got off his bed slowly and sluggishly walked to the door. Behind the door was Gerard and a cat. All three seemed to be pleased. "Why are you here?"  
      He let himself in, "I seen this cat in an alley and I couldn't just leave him there so here we are!" He sat down and snuggled with the cat, "he seems clean; wanna keep him?"   
      He closed the door, "I can't keep pets here it's against the rules."  
      Gerard looked at the cuddly feline and sighed, "what do I do with him then?"  
      "Can't you take care of him?"  
      "I'm allergic to cats."  
      Frank stared at him for a time and he smiled, hugging the cat tighter. "Shouldn't you be dead now?"  
      He laughed, "I guess he's a hypoallergenic kitty cat."  
      Frank rolled his eyes, "well I can't keep him."  
      "Please? He needs a home, and you like animals."  
      "How would you know that?"  
      "Oh, uh," he blushed, "I kinda asked around."  
      "You're a mess."  
      "I'll be a bigger mess if you don't keep the cat."  
      He thought about it for a second. Ryan wouldn't mind... would he? Oh well, he decided to keep the cat.   
      "Let me see him." Gee handed him the furry kitty and he hugged it. The cat looked up at him and purred, making both of them laugh. "What should we name him?"  
      "I dunno." They both thought long and hard about it; this cat will keep this name forever so it has to be amazing. Gerard shrugged, "Slayer is a pretty awesome name."  
      Frank giggled, "this cat is a little too sweet to be called Slayer."  
      "But it's a cool name."  
      "Definitely."  
      "Bowie."  
      Frank smirked, "Bowie?" He looked at his little furry face, "I love it. You're name is Bowie."  
      Gerard smiled and stood back up. He shoved his hands in his winter jacket and rocked back on his heels, "so, you doing anything for Christmas?"  
      Frank's eyes lit up as if he wasn't desperate for quiet alone time, "no. Wanna hang here?"  
      Gerard nodded, "yeah, I'm down with that." They kissed like they were married, "see you in a few days."  
   
Thank god Christmas came fast, because Frank was itching to see Gerard. His quiet alone time was too quiet and too lonely, even with Bowie to sit on his lap. He grew fond of his little feline; he would roll over so you could rub his belly, and push his head against your hand. He was a total sweetheart.   
      Gerard didn't even knock, he just walked in, a small gift in hand. "Here I am!"  
      Frank threw the textbook he wasn't reading on the floor, "there you are!"  
      He handed him the small box and sat on the bed next to him. Frank sighed, "I didn't know my gift was small; your gift is big and that's so weird."  
      He squared his brows, "why?"  
      "Because I said so. That's the rules of Christmas -"  
      "Rules of Christmas?"  
      "The gifts must be of equal value and/or equal size."  
      "Why?"  
      Frank shook his hands, "because rules of Christmas!"  
      Gerard rolled his eyes, "shut up and open it."  
      He brought out his gift and handed it to him. It was literally the same size, but Frank's was wider.   
      Frank ripped up the snowman wrapping paper and it was a CD case with no picture, "I forgot we were in the nineties."  
      "Shut up and look inside."  
      He did just that and the song list was scribbled on it in sharpie. Love songs. Frank smiled like an idiot; he wish he'd thought of this because it was cute.   
      "It's all lovey dovey songs we can dan -" he cut off his sentence and Frank looked up at him, "sing to. Listen to."  
      "Dance to?"  
      Gerard played with the loose wrapping paper on his gift, "only if you're into that sorta stuff."  
      Frank scoffed, "I'm only into it if you are." He stood up and put it in the stereo and hit play. You and Me by Alice Cooper was the first to play. He sat back down on the bed, "now open yours."  
      Gerard pulled the paper apart and it was also a CD case, but with a cover. With a closer look, he seen a black scribble on the lyric book inside, "no."  
      Frank rubbed the back of his neck, "yeah."  
      It was a classic Bowie CD sold during it's time, holding his own signature. "Where did you get this?!"  
      "Would you believe me if I said I know him personally?"  
      Gerard laughed, "not really."  
      "It was a bitch to get, but the guy selling it budged. Got it at a yard sale."  
      He looked at it with admiration. It was beautiful, and the look on Gerard's face made Frank feel warm inside. Bowie the cat sat on Ryan's bed and watched the scene play out.   
      Gerard looked at him, then pushed him on the bed. He held his wrists down and smiled, "Frank -"  
      "Gerard the cat's watching."  
      He turned around and the cat was indeed watching. He got off of him and carried the cat out of the room. He took him next door and came back empty handed, "Pete said he'd take care of him for tonight."  
      Frank laughed and lied back down. Gerard jumped on the bed and lied on top of him. They kissed; "Frank you're such an idiot."  
      "I know."  
      He pushed his lips against his and held onto his thigh. He brought it up and Frank wrapped his legs around his. Gerard pulled at his pants and Frank shook his head, “it’s too cold.”  
      “Ugh,” he dropped his head. “You’re such a tease, I was getting really excited.”  
      Frank laughed and helped Gerard roll off of him, “I even took the cat out.”  
      “It’s fine, because we have New Years. We can fuck for a year.”  
      Gerard laughed and stared at the ceiling. It was white and dull, and mirrorless. “How can you stand to look up at that boring ass ceiling? It’s depressing.”  
      “Well, when you stare at it everyday for four years, you learn to deal with it.”  
      Gee went on his side and faced him, “wait, are you graduating this year?”  
      “Yeah,” he smiled, “that’s why Spring Break is gonna be fucking amazing.”  
      He giggled and poked his chest, “what’re you doing after this? When you graduate?”  
      “I dunno,” he shrugged. “Probably pursue my career dreams and be useless.”  
      “Ah, very ambitious.”  
      Frank got on his side, “what’re you doing after college?”  
      “I already finished college.”  
      “What the fuck? How old are you!”  
      Gerard laughed, “I’m only, like, five years older than you.”  
      “Wow, you’re old.”  
      “Shut up,” he pushed him.   
      Frank’s laugh slowly disappeared, and they both sighed. God, they’re both old.

New Years day was dull, but perfect. They sat inside and drank coffee, Frank was reading a book and Gerard was reading with him. Also, they may or may not have been eavesdropping on Pete and Patrick talking about Spring Break. Pete knocked on their door, “come up at ten for the party.”   
      “Alright.”  
      They laughed softly when they heard Pete and Patrick’s bickering slowly fade as they walked out. They snuggled closer, and resumed reading. Frank just wanted to finish this goddamn book.

On the roof, after leaving Bowie with a sober dorm mate, they sat on the freezing plastic beach chairs Pete brought up from the basement. They should really invest in an elevator.   
      They were handed hot chocolate and watched as Pete fussed with a table that looked like it went through hell and back. “Where did that table even come from?”  
      Frank shrugged and took a sip, “Ikea, probably.”  
      He scoffed, “why is everything from Ikea?”  
      “Shit’s cheap.”  
      They both relaxed, until they realized it was too fucking cold to be outside, “Frank let’s go.”  
      “Go where?”  
      “Down. In your dorm. Let’s ditch the party and have a party by ourselves.”  
      “What would even do in my dorm? The internet’s out.”  
      Gerard just looked at him and Frank stared back, still confused and waiting for an answer. “You’re such a dick, Frank.”  
      “What did I -” he paused, “oh.”  
      “Yeah, oh. Let’s go.”

Gerard pushed Frank on the bed and he bounced uncontrollably, almost falling off the edge. They both laughed as Gerard crawled on top of him. He softly bit Frank's lip and ran kisses down his neck. Frank interrupted him to take off his shirt, and Gee took off his. Somehow, neither of them were wearing pants anymore.  
      Gerard's hand was cold as it ran up his chest. His fingers curled around Frank's neck slowly and Frank held on to his wrist, "woah."  
      "Yeah I know I'm a freak -"  
      "I like that."  
      He smiled and strengthened his grip slightly, "tap my arm if you want me to stop." He rolled on the condom and, quicker than the last time, he pushed himself inside him.   
      Back arched, Frank smiled and moaned behind his mouth. As he pushed into him again, Gerard's grip tightened and Frank swallowed hard, well, at least tried.   
      Frank's breathing was light and empty, softly flowing over his lips. Gee kissed his open mouth and moved faster. He felt his breathing under his palm, which was good because he didn't want to hurt him too much; this was his first time.   
      His mouth hung open and his breathing held traces of his voice. His fiery red hair, which had black roots now, fell heavy with heat and sweat and almost covered his face.   
      The skin under Gerard's hand was getting red and sensitive, and the heat made it worse. It was too cold in the room to actually break a sweat, but the heat from each other would suffice.   
      Frank's eyes closed tightly as he felt his cock throb. "Frank? You okay?"  
      He struggled to nod and smirked. He couldn't tell him he was about to cum, but Gerard smiled, so he guess he understood.   
      Gerard's other hand curled around his throat, which made it feel heavier. Frank held onto his wrist and squeezed it, making Gerard lighten up his grip.   
      He couldn't cum for some reason. It was there, and it took so long his stomach began to hurt, and Gee's moans made it worse. He felt like his dick was about to explode. He grabbed onto his hard cock, slicked with pre cum, and struggled to jerk off.   
      Gerard laughed and pushed his hand away and began rubbing him. Frank's mouth opened wide but he didn't make a sound. He bit his bottom lip hard and Frank came.   
      He let go of his throat and dropped his head into the crook of his neck, still thrusting inside him.   
      Frank's breath shuddered and he grabbed onto his back, leaving red trails. A few more and Gerard moaned against his shoulder and came. He pretty much collapsed on Frank.   
      They lied there, trying to catch their breath. Frank's phone rung loudly and he lazily picked it up, "the fuck you want?"  
      "Bro," it was Pete, "two minutes where are you?!"  
      "I'll be up in thirty seconds." He tapped Gerard, who was still limp, and inside him, "two minutes till midnight."  
      "We spent an hour down here?"  
      "Shit, I could believe it." He slowly pushed Gee off and out of him and he just rolled on his back. "Let's go."  
      "But I'm lazy."  
      He slapped his thigh, "get up." Gerard held out his hands and Frank pulled him up. "We need to hurry."   
      They reached the rooftop and the thirty second countdown already began. They stood next to their crew, still missing Ryan and Brendon, and counted down with them.   
      Pete lit up a long stick at the five second mark.   
      "3, 2, 1; Happy New Year!!!"  
      All the rooftops screamed and lit up their bottle rockets and fireworks. They watched as, it must've been more than a hundred, fireworks set off at the same time.   
      After the one first blew up, everyone began to kiss somebody. Frank grabbed Gerard by his jacket collar and pulled him in for a kiss. Gee held onto his waist tightly and smiled lightly against his lips. It was alright. Their first kiss was better, but this one was way more romantic.   
      They slowly pulled away, eyes still closed, and gave another quick kiss. They pushed their foreheads against each other blindly and both knew the other was smiling. They forgot they were freezing their asses off, and there was no more noise. It was all muffled background noise. It was only them on that rooftop, they were the only ones on the planet in that moment, then reality hit.   
      A glass liquor bottle hit Frank in the head and he chased the asshole down, while Gerard followed and laughed and cheered him off. It was too good of a time to kick his ass, so he just tackled him and told him he was an asshole.   
      Gerard watched as he continued to yell. He was able to go from zero to a hundred in less than a second and he loved it. Frank was going to be the death of him, and the drunk guy he was poking in the face. He was perfect, not the man he thought he would end up loving, but still perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cats are great. And spoilers; the cat does have a purpose.


	15. Holey Night (Pete/Patrick)

"So, the captain goes, 'didn't you know? He's used to hard ships'!"  
      Patrick stared at Pete as he laughed hysterically. "You've took up about seven and a half minutes of my life telling me this. I have a paper due, Pete, that's unacceptable."  
      Pete laughed and put his head on the table, "when I first read it I was on the verge of crying! Wait! I have another one!"  
      "Pete, no."  
      "What did the buffalo say to his son when he left for college?"  
      "Pete -"  
      "Bison!"  
      Patrick stared at him and shook his head.  
      "I gotta tell Brendon that one." Pete giggled and passed him hot chocolate and put whipped cream on the top, much to Patrick's dismay, "what did I tell you about sugar?"  
      "But this is sugar free!"  
      Patrick rolled his eyes and sucked the creme from the top. Their Christmas was spent in Pete's dorm, kicking Brendon out. They sat on the couch and the Ikea corner table sat in front of them, holding their drinks. Pete leaned his head on Patrick's shoulder as he scrolled through netflix looking for a movie that wasn't christmas themed.  
      "In a perfect world, it wouldn't take this long to find a movie."  
      "Okay, Pete, I'm not sure what you want from me."  
      "Hurry up."  
      "No."  
      Pete poked Patrick's stomach and he giggled, then swatted his hand away, "fuck off that tickled."  
      Pete hummed and nudged the laptop, "we don't have to watch a movie tonight."  
      Patrick smirked at Pete, "what do you suppose we do?"  
      Pete wiggled his eyebrows and coyly smiled, "I was thinking, maybe, we could do something else."  
      "Like what?"  
      Pete's fingers trailed Patrick's arm as he closed the laptop, "we could watch hentai."  
      Patrick's smile faded and he opened the laptop again, "you're a prick."  
      Pete laughed, "I'm down for sex too."  
      "No, now I'm not gonna have sex with you."  
      "Please?"  
      "No, get away from me."  
      Pete pushed Patrick on his back and the laptop almost fell, "Pete my laptop!"  
      He took the laptop and put it on the floor, "any other distractions?"  
      Patrick looked around, "I dunno, probably."  
      Pete kissed him passionately and they both smiled against each other's lips. "I hate you."  
      Patrick giggled and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. They kissed again and again, giggling in between. One last kiss and Pete pushed his head against Patrick's shoulder. "I wanna watch Star Wars again."  
      "Ugh." Patrick shifted and got comfortable under him. He dropped his hands on his back, "so we're not having sex tonight?"  
      Pete giggled and raised his head to look at him, "nope, abstinence. We're saving up our energy for New Years."  
      "We're not having sex because you wanna direct our 'energy' for New Years?"  
      "Yup!" He buried his head in his shoulder again, "it's gonna snow."

 Pete helped clear up the snow that piled high in front of the dorm's main entrance. He shoveled it in a wheelbarrow until it couldn't hold any more snow, and Andy and Joe wheeled it to the neighboring dorm and dumped it in front of their doors. It was typical behavior for the Federman Hall (their's) and the Murray Hall to have friendly wars against each other, and since the Federman building usually held the early birds, they got the upper hook this time.  
      Pete looked around and wiped the sweat that wasn't there, "where's Brendon? Did he come home last night?"  
      Joe shrugged, "probably hungover in some guy's bed."  
      He shook his head and continued to shovel. They all wore sunglasses because the sun against the snow was blinding, and half of them were in sneakers and a hoodie. "Dude, he needs to be here for the party. He's gotta help plan it."  
      "He's gonna turn up, eventually, I hope. And besides, we don't need him to plan a kickass roof party. Dude, all we need is booze and huge fireworks. And one of the chubby frat guys."  
      "Where are we gonna get fireworks? They're illegal here without a permit."  
      Joe smirked, "you clearly don't know me."  
      "You have a permit?"  
      "Nope, but I can get them for you. Easy."  
      Pete sighed, "fine. Bring Andy with you so we could get double the 'works. And don't pick up any shitty firecrackers."  
      Joe saluted him, took Andy by the arm and left to get the fireworks. This is gonna be a bomb ass party.

 Joe and Andy were sweating and panting with almost fifty cases of fireworks when they met up with Pete. It was six in the evening, and they left right after sunrise. "What took you so long?"  
      Andy caught his breath, "police."  
      "But we lost them."  
      "Are you sure?"  
      "Definitely!" They handed the fireworks and they stowed it in the Ikea wheelbarrow, made from a dissembled bathroom cabinet, a bicycle wheel and a plastic sled. "Guys I made a bottle rocket!"  
      Pete carefully took it out of a cardboard box (complimentary box from BJ's) and put it on the fold up table.  
      "Pete, are you sure it won't explode?"  
      "Dude, Patrick, really? I got this."  
      He lit up the long cord, which was consumed by fire much, much faster than they could run back, and BOOM! A loud, sharp explosion, resulting in glass shards being shot in all directions. Luckily, the boulder they lined up behind protected them from a painful death.  
      They slowly looked from behind the stone; the table was fine, and the bottle and it's contents disappeared.  
      "Well then," Patrick began.  
      "That wasn't supposed to happen."  
      They all walked toward the table, which turned out to be not fine, not at all. A huge, charcoal rimmed hole was blown in the center, and the smoke rose slowly.  
      "We need a new table."  
      Pete looked at Andy and Joe, and they ran as fast as they could. "Looks like we gotta go to Ikea ourselves."

In Ikea, after being greeted by the security guard who took a liking to them because they're avid customers, they looked up and down the isles for a table.  
      "Dude, what country are we in why the fuck can't I ever read anything?"  
      Patrick dropped his head on an armoire, "we just need a fucking table."  
      Pete found a large wardrobe and stepped inside when Patrick wasn't looking. He heard Patrick call his name, and from the little crack, he watched him as he tried not to freak out. He couldn't hold his laugh any longer, so he jumped out of the wardrobe and yelled "for Narnia!"  
      Patrick jumped a little, but his heart was going to burst. He couldn't let Pete know he scared him, he couldn't let that happen. "Pete can we please find the table."  
      "Did I scare you?"  
      Patrick couldn't help but to smile like a dork when he seen Pete's wide smile. "No, you didn't."  
      "Yeah I did." He poked him in the shoulder, "I know I scared you."  
      Patrick rolled his eyes, "whatever, we just need a table."  
      Pete looked at all the signs which were in english, but seemed foreign to him. He tried to figure out if it was in House or Outdoor, the two biggest isles the store has to offer. Then he remembered where he and Brendon got the tiny table.  
      He pulled Patrick in a mock closet and closed the door. He grabbed onto Patrick's crotch and rubbed him through his pants. Although it was dark and he couldn't see anything, he knew Patrick's eyes were shut and his back was arched, only a little bit. “Pete -” he whispered in an angry tone.  
      He nipped his ear and kissed his neck. Seductively, he whispered, "tables are in aisle eight."  
      He couldn't see Patrick but he knew he was pissed, and he was. He pushed him into the mock wall and left the closet - "baby come back!"  
      They finally got the table and were waiting in line. "Imagine if someone got trapped in Ikea?"  
      Patrick faced him, "how would someone get stuck in Ikea?"  
      "I dunno," he shrugged, "maybe they accidentally fall asleep in the bed and they lock up."  
      "Pete that's impossible they check the store after closing; they have dogs."  
      "Doesn't mean someone can't get trapped in Ikea. Look at Marv and the mean one."  
      Patrick squared his brows, "first of all, that was a movie. And secondly, they weren't trapped in the toy store."  
      "I know so maybe someone would hide in a cabinet or something 'til after closing."  
      "Why would someone need to stay in Ikea after hours? I'm sure they take out the large bills from the cash registers."  
      "Patrick," Pete sighed, "you're so annoying."  
      Patrick looked at him and faced forward again. He had no time for him.

Back at the dorm, they took the table inside and walked up the stairs. "We should really invest in an elevator."  
      "Pete it's only five floors."  
      "Patrick I don't wanna carry the table I'm lazy and I could drop it."  
      "Please don't drop it, I'll go down with it."  
      Pete shook his head and they continued to slowly walk up the stairs.  
      The stairwell was large and square. The steps ran in circles and the center was empty space, perfect for a surprise slingshot attack.  
      Brendon knelt down with Ryan at his side. They were a few spins up, and they watched Pete and Patrick struggle with the table. "Should we help them," Ryan asked quietly.  
      "Nah I'm gonna hit Patrick." He prepped the eraser in his makeshift slingshot and aimed it at Patrick's fedora. He pulled back and shot it, knocking Patrick's hat off his head.  
      "What the fuck?" He looked around and saw nobody, so he knelt down to pick up his hat. In that same moment, he loaded a pebble and shot at Pete's hand, making him scream in pain and drop the table.  
      Before the table could hit him, Patrick quickly swung himself to the wall and the table tumbled down the stairs, breaking, cracking and chipping.  
      Brendon was too slow; Pete saw him and cursed him. He ran up the stairs to kick his ass, leaving Patrick on the stairs with the terribly injured table. "Great."  
      Patrick dragged the broken table up the stairs and when he got through the door, Pete was shoving Brendon's face into the floor, "you're gonna get me a new table you ass-fuck!"  
      He shook his head and continued to drag the table down the hall, carefully sliding past Pete, and he waved to Ryan, who was sitting near the scene, laughing hysterically. Pete got off of him and they ran to Ikea for the table's replacement.  
      "All I needed was a fucking table," he said under his breath.

On New Years Eve, Brendon still was nowhere to be found; it's been almost three days. He sent him texts and he sent a few back, but after the snowstorm, no texts were received. "Should we be worried?"  
      Pete shrugged, "nah, he's fine he does this sometimes."  
      "He disappears for days without telling anyone his whereabouts?"  
      "It's usually the night."  
      Patrick sighed and had no other choice other than to trust him. However, they didn't have a replacement for the dismembered table - "so what do we do with this?"  
      Pete dropped his head and groaned, "all the stores are closed now, so we either gotta fix it or keep the blown up table."  
      "There's no more table on the one we arson-ed! Its just a giant hole on legs!"  
      "We'll throw a tablecloth over it; it'll be fine!"  
      Patrick looked at him, "no."  
      "What do you want me to do?"  
      "I dunno. What do we do?"  
      "We could try to be not lazy and try to rebuild it."  
      "With what tools?"  
      Pete opened a drawer and pulled out duct tape, "this is all we need."

That night, they brought the table up on the roof and told everyone to not stress the table too much, for it was weak.  
      Pete called Frank to come up when the countdown began and turned to Patrick, "ready?"  
      "For what?"  
      The second 'one' was yelled enthusiastically, Pete swung Patrick around, dipped him and kissed him like in the movies. His one hand held the curve of his back and the other held the center of his shoulders, while his lips held his.  
      Patrick's arms were thrown over his shoulders and he balanced on his heels. He smiled against his lips and giggled. It was cold as fuck, and Pete didn't make it any better, but he was content.  
      Pete slowly pulled him back up and they just held each other in their arms. They stood there blissfully, until Patrick's phone buzzed. He looked at his phone and it was Ryan; "holy shit it's Ryan."  
      "Answer it!"  
      "Where have y- oh my god." Patrick smiled at Pete and hung up, "You won’t believe this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been longer than a week sorry 'bout that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	16. Wow (Brendon/Dallon/Spencer/Ryan)

"Alright, you gotta go."  
      "Dude, you're kicking me out?"  
      "Yeah, Patrick's coming over."  
      Brendon scoffed, "you’re a dick."  
      “Well, I’m trying to get some dick.”  
      Brendon rolled his eyes, “fine, but I hope Patrick doesn’t fuck you."  
      Pete threw his jacket at him, "get the fuck out, you prick."  
      Brendon jokingly sighed with his head dropped back. He stomped out the door and Ryan was outside. "Why are you stalking me?"  
      Ryan's face got hot, "I wasn't. Fuck off."  
      Brendon laughed, "I'm kidding. Come outside with me."

It was a bit late and snow had fallen the night before. They walked down the shoveled path and sat on the fountain edge. "It's cold as fuck why are we outside?"  
      "Because," Brendon groaned, "it's romantic, or something."  
      "It'll be a lot more romantic inside."  
      Brendon's phone buzzed; Dallon wanted to see him. "Who is it?"  
      He didn't want to just leave Ryan there, so he ignored the text, "no one. It's not important." Silence. He thought about what Pete had told him earlier, about lying to him three times. He'd done it once and wondered if that counted as the second. It wasn't major, and he's sure Ryan's told a little lie here and there. It was so minute he didn't think too hard on it. "Where do you wanna go?"  
      Ryan shrugged and scooted closer to him, "I dunno. We don't have to go in, I was just bitching."  
      He rolled his eyes, "let's get to the library I know it's open."  
      Ryan hid his frustration and they walked through the oceans of campus snow-grass. The library's path lights were shining brighter than the dorm's lights, making the snow sparkle as if someone had spilled glitter. Ryan thought it was pretty enough to photograph.   
      Brendon pushed the door twice before it budged open. The lights were dim and it was achingly quiet. There were scattered students, maybe five at most, and he laughed; “imagine if we got stuck? It'd be like Lord of the Flies.”   
      Ryan shook his head and giggled as he unzipped his hoodie and walked all the way toward the back of the library. There, they found a secluded table and settled down. They awkwardly sat there and looked around. Brendon's phone buzzed again.   
      "I think it's important."  
      Brendon put his phone on sleep mode, "not as important as you; it's Christmas."  
      Ryan smiled and played with his fingers and Brendon watched. Was this even a date? What's happening? Brendon couldn't figure out what the fuck to say, so he blurted, "when do you wanna do it?" Shit. Shitshitshitshit.   
      "Do what?"  
      "Ignore that."  
      Ryan's mouth hung open as he realized what he'd meant, "until I find the right guy, I think. It shouldn't be an embarrassing question, especially since you have sex."  
      Brendon forced a smirk. It was an embarrassing question. Brendon wanted to die. Ryan pursed his lips, "when did you, y'know, lose your virginity?"  
      Brendon actually laughed. "Uh, high school, but kinda late. The end of senior year."  
      Ryan's eyes were wide, making Brendon a bit uneasy - "what?"  
      "Nothing," he began, "I thought you lost it, like, freshman year or some shit."  
      Brendon laughed, "I had a bowl cut in high school, it was terrible. I don't know what I was thinking with that hair." They both laughed.   
      "Yeah, my hair was a disgrace too."  
      "I was just awkward looking."  
      Ryan laughed, "same."  
      "And I wore heavy makeup."  
      Ryan looked at him and giggled. Brendon bowed his head, "shit you didn't wear makeup in high school."  
      He laughed and held his hand, making Brendon's heart flutter. His hand was always so goddamn soft. "I drowned my face in makeup -"  
      "And it wasn't even only eyeliner! I painted my fucking face -"  
      "So did I!"  
      They both laughed for a while, until a distant 'shut the fuck up' came about, then they giggled uncontrollably. "I don't know why people thought I was drop dead gorgeous back then. I looked like a dweeb.”   
      Dallon was now calling Brendon's phone and he groaned as he answered it, "yeah?"  
      He scoffed and before he hung up, Ryan said "you can go. We could hang out after Christmas. And New Years. And literally any other day, because it's just a day."  
      Brendon covered the speaker, "yeah, but it's Christmas."  
      "So? I'm not planning on dying today. Or tomorrow. Go."  
      He thought about it for a while and looked up at Ryan, asking him again. "Brendon please go. They're calling so it has to be important."  
       Brendon patted black eyeshadow all over his eye. He hadn't put on makeup in ages, and he wasn't a guru back then. It was just a black mess circling his eyes, but for some reason, somehow, it looked 'presentable'.   
      He wore a tight latex dress and a collar around his throat. Thigh highs were pulled up and garters held them in place. Tall, pencil thin heels were slipped in to, and little black cuffs wrapped his wrists. He looked like an amateur prostitute. He laughed when Dallon leaned on the wall and whispered 'perfect.'  
      He walked towards Brendon and put his hand on his cheek. He gave him a kiss and Brendon felt like it was his first. When Dallon wasn't ramming his ass raw, he was the sweetest.   
      Dallon sat on the bed and Brendon, without being told, bent over his legs. His ass was propped up high because of the height difference between him in his heels and Dallon on the bed.   
      Dallon pulled up his dress to reveal a lacy thong and a nice ass. He slapped him and Brendon let out a little yelp. He slapped him again, "don't be so loud."  
      "Don't hit so hard." Brendon looked back as he felt Dallon lie back. He grabbed a long, thin cloth and forced it around his mouth. He tied it to the back, "tap my leg if it hurts."  
      He nodded and Dallon resumed punishing him. "You ignored me", he slapped him again. Brendon winced and his makeup was beginning to run under his eyes. His ass cheeks were red and sensitive. He was practically begging for more. Tears ran down the sides of his face as he continued - nonstop. He grunted under his gag, and from the corner of his eye, he seen someone standing in the door way.   
      Dallon stopped and he was able to get a better look; Spencer smiled as he looked up and down his body. "Nice." He walked towards them and him and Dallon kissed - passionately Brendon thought. Then, he kissed Brendon's cheek and smiled, "see you guys started without me."  
      "You took forever."  
      "I had work," he grabbed Brendon’s shoulders and pulled him up on his feet, "but now I'm here."  
      Dallon stood in front of him and Spencer stayed behind him. Their hands roamed his body and they kissed him all over. Spencer and Dallon kissed his neck and his head fell back. Spencer grabbed his ass and pulled his dress higher up. "You're gonna be taken care of tonight", he whispered against his shoulder.   
      He and Dallon knelt down almost simultaneously, leaving kisses down his body. Dallon took his thong between his teeth and pulled it down. He was already hard, making him smile. He wrapped his lips around his erection and took him entirely.   
      His fingers tangled in his hair and he pulled hard. A soft moan escaped the gag. Spencer began rimming him, moving his wet tongue over his entrance, occasionally leaving wet kisses on his raw skin to soothe the sting. Brendon's mouth hung open as he moaned and pulled Spencer's hair. His knees got weak, so he released their hair and braced himself against the wall.   
      Dallon's hand followed his mouth, moving up and down his shaft and left bites on his thigh, making Brendon lose his goddamn mind.   
      He felt Spence stop and looked back to see why. He stood up and unzipped his pants. Brendon tried to watch him as he rolled on a condom and pushed his cock in him, but Dallon didn't intend on stopping.   
      The first few thrusts were concentrated, achingly slow; he was making sure he felt every inch of him. Then, he moved faster, almost erratic. He pushed into him hard, making it hard for Brendon to brace himself against the wall.   
      He felt Dallon move even faster and his back arched and his knees were on the verge of collapsing; it almost hurt.   
      He felt his stomach knot up and hoarsely grunted with each thrust. Finally, after Dallon sucked the skin of his thigh hard, leaving a hickey, his cum dripped down his chin.   
      Dallon spit whatever cum was in his mouth and Spencer stopped. He stood up, took the gag off and Brendon forced his lips on his. After a few, Dallon pulled away, "get on the bed." He did as he was told; he stood on his knees, awaiting for the next command.   
      They both got on the bed, still where they were before, and Spencer pushed Brendon on the bed, hands and knees. Dallon pulled his hair, making his head go up and pulled out his throbbing cock. He pushed his fingers against Brendon's cheeks, forcing him to open his mouth. Once open, Dallon filled it with his cock and Spencer resumed fucking him from behind.   
      Dallon's cock hit the back of Brendon's throat with each forceful push, and he gagged. Spit and precum ran down his chin, pooling onto the sheets.   
      Spencer's fingers dug into his sides and Dallon's into his arms,leaving bruises. His whole body tensed up, trying to regain energy to cum again. He felt it starting up in his stomach; he knew it was going to hurt.   
      Spencer, after a few, hard, stinging thrusts, his mouth dropped open and he moaned louder than Dallon, whose cum filled his jaw, making him swallow it.  
      Dallon pulled out and he coughed out whatever remained. Then he came right after, and it did hurt.  
      He fell sideways on the bed and rolled on his back. Dallon and Spencer lied next to him, putting their heads on his chest. Brendon sighed, coming down from his high. Dallon gave a light kiss on his chest and Brendon closed his eyes.

Brendon and Ryan were sitting in the dorm's recreational room a few days later. They were lazily playing checkers, when Ryan's eyes lit up, "I got you something, for Christmas. Forgot to give it to you."   
      He smiled, "I told you not to get me anything."  
      "No you didn't."  
      "Well I thought you'd just know."  
      Ryan laughed and pulled out a makeshift slingshot. "I made it with part of a branch and a rubber band. I thought you'd might like it, because, you know, everyone likes destruction."  
      Brendon laughed and held the cute little slingshot. "Wanna hit someone?"  
 

They stood on the stairs and waited for their victim. Ryan seen Pete's head and whispered, "Pete's carrying something we can't hit him."  
      "Can't or is it morally bad to do so?"  
      Ryan bowed his head and crouched next to him. Brendon shot the ammunition, making the hat and the table tumble down the stairs. Pete chased him up and pushed him to the ground. He smashed his face into the floor, "you're going to Ikea and getting me a new goddamn table!"  
      "No!"  
      Pete gave him a wedgie until he budged, "fine! Get off me!"  
      Pete got off and they both stood up, "Ryan let's go get this heathen a table. A cheap, shitty, no good table!"  
       Brendon lied on the bed and stretched. Ryan sat at the foot of the bed and lied back. They stared at the warehouse ceiling, “I need to be studying, Brendon, I cannot believe you dragged me here.”  
      “Don’t act like you were gonna be studying; you already did midterms.”  
      “Yeah, and I failed one.”  
      “Ryan you got like an eighty chill the fuck out -”  
      “Excuse me, but you can’t lie on the bed.”  
      They both sat up and stared at the scrawny guy drowning in his Ikea shirt.  
      “We’re testing it out,” Brendon giggled.  
      “I understand, but guests are not allowed to lay on the beds. You can only test how nice the mattress is by squishing it.”  
      “Squishing?”  
      “Squishing.”   
      Brendon stood up, “listen -” he squinted his eyes at the name tag, “Taylor -”  
      “It’s Tyler.”  
      “What?”  
      He pointed to his name tag, “we go through this every time; there is no ‘a’. That’s a ‘t’, and a ‘y’; Tyler.”  
      Brendon scoffed, “I don’t know where you came from, or who you think you are, but I’m an American, and it’s my right to do whatever I want.” Ryan laughed in the background, encouraging him to continue acting foolishly, “it’s in the Constitution, free-will my friend!”  
      The Ikea guy looked at him, “I’m from Ohio...” They both stared at each other, “and free-will isn’t in the Constitution; it’d make America Anarchic, not Democratic. And free-will is in the Bible.”  
      Another employee entered the conversation, “is there an issue here?”  
      “He thinks free-will is in the Constitution.”  
      “It’s in the bible,” he said while looking at Brendon.   
      Brendon playfully got angrier, “and who are you?”  
      They both pointed to his name tag, “my tag says Josh -”  
      “His tag, it says Josh, so -”  
      “That’s it! I wanna see a manager!”  
      “I am the manager,” Josh said proudly.  
      Brendon stared at him, “no. I wanna see a different manager -”  
      Tyler cut him off, “I’m also a manager,” he shrugged.  
      “Well, this establishment is gross and I’m disgusted by it.”  
      “That’s why you come here, like, every other week to buy a table?”   
      Brendon didn’t know what to say, other than a ‘psh’, ‘ugh’, and ‘whatever’. “I hate you, Josh,” he poked his shoulder, “and I hate you, Taylor.”  
      As Brendon comically stormed off, both Tyler and Josh shook their heads, “good to see you Brendon!”  
      “You too, man!”  
      They went down the kitchen aisle and fucked around with the cabinets. Brendon tried fitting himself in one, and Ryan locked him in, until the real manager walked by. They messed with all the little trinkets and played with the gardening stuff, Pete texted Brendon ‘don’t get locked inside,‘ and he laughed. “Dude, Pete thinks we can get locked in Ikea.”  
      “How would one even get trapped, though?”  
      “I dunno. Marv and that mean guy was in that toy store in New York.”  
      “Brendon, that was a movie. And they hid inside the doll houses; they weren’t trapped.”  
      “Still.” He sighed, “wow I have to take a piss.”  
      "Brendon, we have to get out of here we spent the whole day here. They're closing."  
      "It'll be quick; I'll use the employee bathroom."  
      They both waited patiently outside the bathroom until an employee walked in, then out. They heard a lock sound but didn't think anything of it. Brendon slipped in and relieved himself while Ryan waited. Brendon pushed the door and it didn’t open, “what the fuck?”  
      Ryan tried pulling at it and pushing the number pad but nothing worked, "the door is locked."  
      "What?"  
      "The door locks from the outside with a special key.”  
      “So go get it! It’s in the manager’s office!”   
      The lights shut off and it was almost pitch black. Ryan could barely see, so he turned on the flashlight on his phone; it was on twenty percent. "Shit."  
      He navigated through the dark until he stumbled into the manager's office, which had a lock on it. He fumbled through his pockets to find something he could use to open the door, but had nothing. He decided to try to open it; the door wasn’t even locked.   
      The door swung open and he rummaged through the desk and cabinets. He found something that had the base like a key, but was rounded at the other end. He took that and quickly jogged back to the bathroom. Lo’ and behold, it was the right key.   
      Brendon walked out and looked around, "what do we do?"  
      "Leave?"  
      They walked back to the front, which was bombarded by snow. They were caught in the snowstorm. "Wow, it's so weird how the snow just appeared, trapping us in Ikea."  
      Brendon nodded, "it's as if it was all planned or something just for the pure fact that being stuck in Ikea would be funny, yet unfortunate irony."  
      Ryan groaned, "I just wanna go home."  
      “Well, how long are we gonna be trapped in here? By tomorrow they’ll open the doors.”  
      “And what if they don’t?  
      “Ryan,” he held on to his shoulder, “you’re such a bitch. Why won’t they come tomorrow?”  
      He swatted his hands off, “because it’s a fucking snowstorm.”  
      “It’s just snow. It’ll melt by sunrise.”  
  
Hours passed, probably even days, Brendon said, and they were still in Ikea. They looked around the store and set up a little camp-like area for themselves. Ryan’s phone had died an hour ago, and Brendon’s died shortly after, in the middle of a text to Pete. “Did you tell him we’re trapped in Ikea?”  
      "That didn’t necessarily come up.”  
      Ryan looked at him, “what the fuck do you mean it didn’t necessarily come up what the fuck, man!”  
      “Dude, you seriously need to fucking relax.” He jumped on the bed from earlier, “this is kinda fun, actually, camping in Ikea.   
      “I’m starving.”  
      “Eat my dick,” Brendon laughed as he lied back.  
      “Fuck off.” He put his head on the table, “what time is it?”  
      “Before midnight, because the fireworks didn’t go off yet.”  
      “It’s not New Year’s, Brendon.”  
      He sat up, “what? Yes it is.”  
      “We have not stayed in here for days we’d be dead; starved.”  
      Brendon laughed, “I’m pretty fucking sure it’s been a few days.”  
      “How?”  
      “The snow covered the doors, the only source of light, so it’s been dark for a long time, meaning our bodies think it’s night time, but actually days went by and we didn’t even fucking know.”  
      Ryan stared at him, it actually made sense, “wow.”  
      Brendon groaned, “just because I’m a cock-slut doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”  
      A chill ran down his spine and he shivered, moving the neighboring chair, “is it me or is it really fucking cold in here?”  
      “Well,” he shifted, “it’s not cold underneath the blanket. I’ve got room for one more”  
      Ryan looked up at the display bed; jesus christ it looked so fucking comfortable. “Are you inviting me up?”  
      “Well, I’ve got no one else.”  
      Ryan stood up and crawled into the bed, hesitantly at first. He shimmied himself under the blanket, “don’t touch me inappropriately, or else I’ll punch you in the dick.”  
      Brendon rolled to his side to face him, “fair enough.”   
      Ryan rolled to his side, making his back face Brendon, “goodnight.”  
      He felt Brendon move closer and tried to move away from him, but he was already at the end. Before he could tell him off, Brendon’s voice gently glided over the back of his neck, “goodnight.”  
      Ryan shut his eyes closed tight and thought about something else. Then, he felt his hand hold on to his shoulder, “Brendon -”  
      “I’m not touching you inappropriately.” His hand fell to Ryan’s neck, and he smiled when he felt Ryan swallow hard.   
      “Stop touching my neck,” he managed to get out.  
      “Fine.” He took his hand off and Ryan sighed out of relief. Then, a few moments later, his arm wrapped around his waist and he pulled Ryan into his chest. He struggled to get out, but Brendon wouldn’t let him. He made it worse by softly nipping at his ear with his teeth. It was the kind of sting that sent goosebumps all over your body.   
      He then moved his leg over Ryan’s, making his legs stop kicking. He sent his kisses down the side of his face to his neck, and Ryan, at that point, pretty much was pushing himself into him. He stopped struggling and let Brendon continue whatever it was he was doing.  
      Brendon slowly rolled over Ryan, trying to kiss more than just the side of his throat, until he was halfway, then fully on top of him.   
      Ryan was on his stomach and Brendon continued kissing him and softly biting him. It felt just as good as it did Halloween night, except it wasn’t sloppy and wet with spit. He concentrated only on how it made Ryan feel, which wasn’t the case on Halloween.  
      Ryan grabbed onto the sheets and shoved his face into the pillow; Brendon’s hand was in the front of his pants. Ryan was grinding himself on his hand, biting the pillow until it was soaking with his saliva. He moaned into the pillow and Brendon smiled, still biting his neck.  
      Ryan let out a long, throaty moan and pushed his hips into his hand until his back hurt. Brendon smiled against his skin and took his hand out of his pants. It took a second to realize what had happened, and Ryan kicked Brendon's knee, "get off!"  
      Brendon laughed and rolled off of him, "wait where you going!"  
      Ryan got off the bed and walked to the couch they pulled all the way from the living room aisle, "fuck you I'm sleeping here."  
      Brendon got up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and walked toward Ryan, "but it's like zero degrees what the fuck."  
      He tried climbing on top of him and Ryan kicked his legs out, which was a mistake, because he caught his legs and spread them and lied on top of him.   
      With the blanket draped over his shoulders, Brendon covered Ryan completely. Ryan had to admit he was really warm under him, but still, he's petty and wants Brendon to go fuck himself. "Get off."  
      "I don't wanna."  
      "Brendon -"  
      "Just admit you like me on top of you."  
      "Fine I like you on top of me."  
      Brendon's smile quickly disappeared and he just stared at him. He didn't expect him to say that, and he was taken aback so much so he froze.   
      Ryan wasn't sure what the fuck he was doing but it seemed to have an affect on Brendon, and himself without knowing.   
      They both lied there staring at each other. Ryan pushed his lips against Brendon's and held his hand on his chest. His lips were just as warm as his whole body was, and Brendon thought that same about him. They were interrupted by muffled screaming; they both turned their attention to the door and Pete and Patrick were there in tunnels of their body size. Brendon got up and pulled Ryan up with him and they ran to the door, "get us out!"  
      Pete held up a giant rock and put it up against the window, "move back!"  
      "Pete no!"  
      They seen Patrick talk to Pete, then faced them, "get ready to run!"  
      "Patrick -"  
      Pete threw the rock at the window and it shattered. The alarms blared and Pete picked up the rock again and smashed the second set of doors, and they all ran.   
      The sirens were going off in the distance and they ran as fast as they could. Ryan looked up as watched the flickers of the fireworks in the velvety sky. He was mesmerized at the fact that the fireworks were beautiful and at the fact that it was New Year’s.  
      They made it to campus and Brendon and Ryan stopped to catch their breath, and to be alone. They both looked up and watched as the sky lit up with sparks and colors and domes of lights. Brendon wrapped his arm around Ryan’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss. Brendon couldn’t feel that ‘spark’ everyone was talking about, but he thought nothing of it since it was less than twenty degrees that night.   
      Neither of them did, because neither of them ever felt a spark when they kissed, so they never expected it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck yeah guess who's back ayye  
> Needed time to get back into the mojo and here we are!  
> Also;  
> Some what Meaningless Threesome*s > Romance


	17. Dogs Are Great (Andy/Joe)

After being sent to go get fireworks, Andy and Joe got into a car and drove to the neighboring state, where a permit was not needed. "Dude, this is gonna be great!"  
      Andy smiled, "I know! I just hope we don't run into any trouble."  
      "Nah," Joe reassured, "it's gonna be fine, I never run into any trouble."  
      "Oh really?"  
      Joe scoffed, "yeah, really. And I'm gonna show you when we bring fireworks back to campus, easy peasy!"  
      Andy laughed and told him to take the next exit, "I guess we'll see, then."  
 

The second they walked into Walmart, the fireworks were displayed happily on the table in the front. Eagerly, they grabbed a cart each and overfilled the baskets, almost taking the whole inventory.  
      The line was awful, and they were out of there much after thirty minutes with a water bottle in hand. They were walking back to their car, talking about the latest in nerd news, when two police officers stopped them, "you having a big party tonight?"  
      "Oh," Joe started, "yeah, just a couple miles from here actually."  
      "Really?" The other cop surveyed them, "where at?"  
      Andy and Joe made vague hand gestures, trying to think of a nearby town, "by the lake."  
      "What lake?"  
      "Y'know, the big one, with, uh, fish and water."  
      The police officers looked at them both, "you got a license for these?"  
      "Yes, actually, I do! Help him put them in the car and I'll go get it from the front."  
      Hesitantly, the cops loaded the trunk with the fireworks while Joe 'rummaged' through the glove compartment. "Ahah! Here you go!"  
      He handed a laminated paper to the cops and they looked at it closely, "wait here."  
      "Can I sit in the car," Andy asked, "I'm really sensitive to the sun and get sick really fast, and I tend to pass out."  
      The cop sighed, "fine, but you stay out here."  
      "But he needs to turn the car on."  
      "What?"  
      Andy shrugged, "I don't know how a car works. He's my chauffeur."  
      The cop looked at Joe - "yeah, I drive him around."  
      "Hurry up, and don't try anything funny."  
      Joe sat in the driver's side with the door wide open and his left leg hanging out, “what do we do?”  
      “We fucking drive off that’s what we do!”  
      Joe turned the ignition on and felt something rub against his leg. He was blessed enough to have been curled up by a puppy no bigger than a foot tall. The little pug looked up at him with wide eyes and a joyous smile.  
      Joe's heart melted as he picked up the pooch and gave him a few loving pats. The dog was excited, up until the police officer came close to the car. It began growling at him and he got a bit uneasy, "sir, calm your dog down, please."  
      Joe looked back at the dog, then the cop, then back at the dog. He felt the pup lean forward, so he let him loose and the dog chased the cop away.  
      He slammed the door and before he took off, he looked in the rearview, as to say goodbye to his new friend. As he raced out of the parking lot, his heart felt heavy and he couldn't just leave the dog back there, so he decided to go back.  
      "Dude what are you doing?!"  
      "Andy, I can't leave the dog here I need to take him home!"  
      He couldn't say anything to counteract Joe's rash, but necessary, decision, so he allowed him to go back.  
      The cops were still in the parking lot, trapped in their car with an angry pug barking outside. Joe ran out of the car, scooped him up, and when the cop tried to tase him, Joe threw the water bottle at him and he successfully got away.  
  
A few hours passed and they were cruising down the highway when they passed a dormant police car. "Shit," Joe said as he looked back and watched the car follow them.  
      It took him a while to flash the siren, and when he did, Andy poked him, "don’t do it."  
      Joe looked at him in disbelief, "I'm not gonna run away from the cops I have to pull over."  
      "You can't! The guys are counting on us to bring the fireworks!"  
      "Andy -"  
      "Floor it, Joe. Just do it. Do it for Sokka."  
      Joe glanced at the pup, who was napping in the back seat, "shit."  
      The second siren was flashed, and Joe just fucking floored it. Almost immediately, he cop kept his sirens blaring and sped behind him.  
      "How do I lose him?!"  
      "Uh," Andy poked his head out of the sunroof and looked ahead, "you can swerve past the cars if you're fast enough; get off the next exit before we hit traffic."  
      Doing as he was advised, he laced his car in between other vehicles and the cop still pursued, but trailed further and further. He got off the next exit and his car began to slow down. He hit the dash; his shitty car was threatening to break down on them. "Shitshitshitshitshit -"  
      "Don't worry." Andy pulled his phone out and sent a text, "I know someone here, she'll help us out."  
      The car ran for another mile or so until they had to ditch it and get into his buddy's van.  
      She took them back to her place, where they stayed and ate a little bit; "you guys got into some hot shit what'd you do?"  
      "We're smuggling fireworks into a state that banned them -"  
      "And I set my dog after a cop."  
      “And threw a fucking water bottle at one of ‘em!”  
      She laughed, "that's fucking crazy! You guys should've invited me."  
      Andy laughed, "yeah, well someone said we wouldn't have to deal with cops."  
      "How was I supposed to know that those two jerk offs were gonna be there?"  
      Andy playfully punched him in the shoulder, "it's okay; it was definitely worth the adrenaline rush."  
      "Heh," he nodded and softly pet the sleeping pup, "I just don't know how we're supposed to leave the state without the cops coming after us, now that we’re on FBI’s most wanted list."  
      "Oh," she said as she put her drink down and flipped her brightly colored hair out of her face, "I can help you with that -"  
      A couple hours later, a makeshift bathtub wheelbarrow with a gleeful puppy sitting on the fireworks was loaded in the trunk of her van. They both hopped in back, and before she closed the door, she added “I can’t go the whole way with you guys, but I’ll try to drop you off as close as possible.”  
      “Dude, I can’t thank you enough!”  
      “Probably not, but a big ass pizza would suffice,” she winked.  
      The door was closed and seconds later, the van started up, and they got back on the freeway.  
      They peeked out the circular window and watched as cop cars casually rode the street, looking for them.  
      “Why the fuck do they care about fireworks so damn much?”  
      “Well,” Joe sat down and let Sokka jump on his lap, “the police force literally has nothing else to do but arrest pot smokers and let murderers free.”  
      Andy scoffed, “whatever, man, I’m just hungry.”  
      “Me too; can’t wait to get back to the dorms. I hear theres gonna be like, a thousand boxes of pizza.”  
      Andy awkwardly nodded and Joe got out of his fattening daydream, “what? You don’t like pizza?”  
      “I actually love it, but I can’t eat it -”  
      “Lactose intolerant?”  
      “Vegan, actually.”  
      Joe got wide eyed, “holy shit, seriously?”  
      He giggled, “yeah, why is that surprising to you?”  
      “Because you’re part of crossfit, and guys like you need meat.”  
      “Guys like me don’t need anything -”  
      “Other than plants, twigs and leaves.”  
      Andy threw a roll of paper towels at him, “I eat real food, y’know.”  
      “Pssh, I doubt it.”  
      The van came to a stop with a hard jerk, “they’re checking cars!”  
      “What?!”  
      Andy’s friend turned around, “you guys need to bounce asap! Get the tub and the dog and go through the trees!”  
      Andy and Joe looked at each other and hurriedly collected themselves (and the dog) and jumped out of the back. The van was behind about ten cars, but they needed to move quickly if they wanted to escape in the dark without getting caught.  
      Andy jumped out first and carried the wheeled tub out of the van. Their hoods covered their faces and they nonchalantly wheeled it towards the trees next to the freeway.  
      “How far are we from the school,” Andy whispered.  
      “Uhh,” Joe looked around. All he seen were huge spotlights and cops and he began to panic a little bit, “shit, umm, probably like twenty minutes from the school?”  
      “Will we make it?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “What do you mean ‘yeah’? Is that a yes or a no?”  
      “I don’t know, just keep moving till we reach the trees.”  
      They were buried behind the bushes and struggled to keep the wheelbarrow from sinking too deep into the snowy mud. It was physical hell for the both of them, but they remained quiet almost the entire time.  
      The ruckus began to cool down and they were left blind in the darkness. They kept moving until they heard two guys talking. They didn’t know who they were so they stopped and held their breaths, but the strangers knew they were there.  
      “Hello?”  
      They remained silent.  
      The other guy took a step forward, “hey! I know where you stand - you’re silent in the trees!”  
      Andy and Joe remained still, silently.  
      “I heard you guys move and talk before; why won’t you speak where I happen to be? You’re just standing there -”  
      “In the trees -”  
      “Standing cowardly!”  
      Andy leaned in to Joe and whispered, “are they rhyming?”  
      He shrugged, “I don’t know but I’m kinda scared; they might be theater kids.”  
      The stranger took two steps back, and with a shaky voice, “I can feel your breath; I can feel my death. I just want to know you; I just want to see you!”  
      Joe rolled his eyes, “fine! You’re being so dramatic for no reason!”  
      They pulled the tub out from the trees and there they were! Tyler and Josh breathed a sigh of relief, “thank god, I thought you were someone evil.”  
      Joe looked at him, “dude, if you feel like you’re gonna die, why do you keep trying to talk to whatever was behind the trees?”  
      “I just wanted to see you, and probably say hello, if you were a stranger... who wouldn’t kill me.”

They continued walking on the side of the road. Sokka was sleeping in between boxes and it was about two hours in the party, and they were still nowhere near the campus. Pete sent countless texts to the both of them, telling them to hurry the fuck up because the party is counting on them.  
      Every car that passed them made their hearts explode. They were uneasy and just wanted to go home; “I could really use some food right now.”  
      “Me too. I’m about to go vegan and eat dirt.”  
      “Joe -”  
      “I’m kidding.” He sighed and looked at the cloudy moon, “I still don’t know what you guys eat, other than salad a tofu.”  
      Andy scoffed, “we eat literally everything. Veggie burgers exist, y’know.”  
      “I know, but like, grass.”  
      “When we get back to the campus, I’ll make you a vegan meal; how about that?”  
      “Minus the tofu?”  
      He smiled, “minus the tofu.”  
      Joe looked behind them and seen a car in the distance. He couldn’t make out what it was, so as a precaution, they moved back into the trees, which were sparse now.  
      The car passed by; a quiet vehicle with no headlights moving slower than the speed limit. They watched the car attentively as it drove away at it’s moderate pace. Then, it stopped.  
      It went in reverse and from the car, a deep voice yelled ‘stop! Don’t move!’  
      Naturally, this prompted them to run.  
      They struggled to keep the wheelbarrow off the muddy ground as they ran through the brush and into the freeway. “Get in!”  
      “What?!”  
      “Trust me, Joe! Just get in!”  
      Reluctantly, he made a little clearing and sat in the tub, and Andy pushed it as fast as he could. They weren’t sure what direction the cars were going, so he pushed them on the shoulder.  
      The sirens were blaring from all directions, and the lights were bright as hell against the velvety sky.  
      Andy made a sharp turn down a beaten path centered by a forest, and Sokka and Joe bumped about in the tub. Joe tried to hold the fireworks down as they jerked in the tub, but lost a box or two. Then, in an opening, they reached the campus and ran to their dorm, where they met Pete and dropped the fireworks off.

In Andy’s dorm, Joe lied on the couch and Sokka slept on the bed. Andy was making dinner on his portable camping stove. When he finished, he put food on a single plate, “stir-fried rice noodles with vegetables.”  
      Joe sat up and looked at it. It looked a lot better than what Joe expected, and tasted better too. “Holy shit this is awesome.”  
      “I would’ve made two plates but my stove has one burner.”  
      “It’s cool, I like sharing.”  
      Andy got all bashful and they took a few bites before deciding to sit on the roof and watch the fireworks.  
      They sat behind the party and ate their vegan-friendly meal. They watched as the sky lit up with brilliant hues and crisp color. “Ah shit.”  
      Andy swallowed, “what?”  
      “I forgot to kiss you at midnight.”  
      He looked at his phone, “it’s still midnight, and I don’t think I’ll be the second one you kiss this year.”  
      Joe awkwardly giggled and leaned in. The kiss was awkward because they were sitting next to each other, but they thought it was just as amazing as the first one. They both sat back with huge, dorky smiles on their faces; “hey Joe?”  
      “Yeah?”  
      “There’s tofu in the food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's a lazy piece of shit???  
> Also college starts soon so idk if that means more fanfic writing or less idk  
> I also can't write action sequences if my life depended on it and I think I cringed more than usual in this chapter  
> I'm an asshole lmao  
> This is also my longest fanfic AND the one with the most kudos so I'm boutta celebrate thank u so much <3


	18. Well, It's Kinda Romantic (Frank/Gerard)

"I'm broke."

      "That's okay, because I'm broke too."

      "Gerard,"  
      "Fronk."  
      Frank broke into a small laughter, "stop calling my Fronk."  
      Gee swung his arms on Frank's shoulders and dipped himself, "Frink, Fronk, Frank, it's all the same."  
      "Well if I'm Fronk then you're Wee."  
      "What?!"  
      "Yeah, Wee. Gee, Wee, Nee - it's the bee's knees."  
      "Well," he stood back up, "I'm gonna have to be frank with you -"  
      "Ugh" he groaned, "if I hear 'can I be frank with you' one more time I'll -"  
      "You'll what?"  
      Frank shrugged, "I dunno, kick their ass."  
      "If I said that again would you kick my ass?"  
      "Yeah."  
      "Really?"  
      "Psh," he bobbed his head, "fuck yeah, I'll kick your ass."  
      "Wait, you'll kiss my ass?"  
      "What? No! I said -" Frank thought about it, "actually, if you didn't say it, I think I'd kiss your ass."  
      They both laughed and Gerard kissed Frank's nose, "you're an ass."

Their Valentine's Day was very short lived; a quiet evening in Frank's dorm, watching Friends and cuddling under a warm, soft blanket. After a few coy smiles and wandering hands, Frank ended up on his knees in between Gerard's.  
      Gerard held Frank's chin, "have you ever deep throated someone?"  
      Frank's face got hot and he dropped his head on his knee, "why do you ask questions like that?"  
      "Like what," he laughed, "I just wanna make sure you know what you're doing so you're not sent to the ER."  
      "I know how to deep throat someone, I watch porn."  
      Gerard broke into laughter and Frank awkwardly grabbed at his pants waist and pulled them down. He held his semi-hard cock and slowly ran his tongue up to his tip. Gerard bit his lip and pushed Frank's head down, making him gag.  
      At first Frank was taking it like a champ, but before he could wrap his head around the weird feeling in his stomach, he threw up.  
      Gerard shot up and Frank was mortified - "dude!"  
      "I -" he stammered and watched him as he grabbed a shirt and wiped his cock down. Frank's stomach felt weird again and he darted out of the room.  
      He ran to the bathroom, ignored the two guys in the shower making R rated talk, and puked in the toilet. His whole body trembled and he wanted to die. He felt a ridiculously freezing hand gather his hair and pull it up from the sides of his face. He threw up again and felt like he almost died; his stomach caved in so hard he felt his innards move and his stomach hit his spine.  
      "Dude, I told you not to eat anything."  
      "Dude, I got hungry."  
      Frank heard the smile in Gerard's response, "you're such a fatty all you do is eat."  
      He heaved again, "fuck off I like pizza okay? I think I'm allowed to have pizza before I see you."  
      "Not if you're gonna deep throat me right after."  
      A few empty belches and upheavals, Frank rolled to his side and sat on the floor with his back against the stall. Gerard sat across from him with his knees to his chest - "you're such a dork, you know that?"  
      Frank sniffled and wiped the tear from the corner of his eye, "you startled me."  
      "Startled?"  
      "Yeah, startled. If you didn't shove my face in your groin we'd be enjoying the night."  
      Gerard smiled sweetly, "who said I wasn't enjoying the night?"  
      He got bashful and turned his head to the side, allowing his hair to cover his face, "never thought we'd be spending our night in the stalls."  
      Gerard looked around, "well, it's not the end of the world. We can still have a great night in a bathroom stall."  
      Frank scoffed and watched as the red head kiss down his clothed chest and pull his pants down. His sharp breath hissed as Gerard took his cock in his mouth. God it was heavenly, but his stomach wasn't having it.  
      He pushed Gee off himself and puked in the toilet. Gerard laughed it off and pinched his round ass, getting a sharp swat to the hand.  
      This wasn't how either expected the night of love and sex and romance would go, but this was a pretty decent turnout. At least they were both together, alone. And this would mean Frank would have to make it up to him later, so it was actually a pretty great night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a fucking mess lmao and I know it's mad short I know what I'm doing trust me!


	19. Photosynthesis (Pete/Patrick)

"Stop one is the Botanic."  
      "The what?"  
      "Dude, that building with all the plants and shit -"  
      Patrick sighed, "I know what a botanic is I meant why."  
      "Because -"  
      "Please tell me you're not gonna steal any flowers and give them to me as you're taken to prison."  
      "Nope, even better!"

The whole bus ride, Pete was indulged in his little pocket notebook with a "nerdy" Thrones cover. He kept smiling into the book and crossing stuff and circling things and writing notes, all while he made sure Patrick didn't peep inside. "Dude", he said, "it holds the secrets of my heart.”  
Patrick was going to argue with him, but decided against it. That's what people in love do - ignore the weird or crazy things their partner(s) do. So he sat back and watched the college town leave in a blur and the city enter with an abrupt entrance.  
      The botanical garden was less than desirable - it had your basic plants, and, well, that was pretty much it. There were no brain plants or plants that smell like carcass and blooms once every 20 or something years. Not even a single picture of the voluptuous redhead Poison Ivy. I mean, it was a garden, and everyone has seen a fucking tulip before, so why Pete decided to take Patrick there was a mystery.  
      They walked through the exhibit hand-in-hand and complimented the sweet smell of dirt and wet dirt and held a heated debate on whether or not wet dirt and mud was the same thing (Pete swore wet dirt smelled better than mud, and the two were very much different). They walked into the tropical room and stood in one spot before deciding it's just too fucking humid and Patrick's hair was frizzing (which neither of them knew that could happen) and walked right back out. They casually shared a soda and a plate of fries because food was too expensive and Pete promised better food later. He described it as thick and juicy and a bit red and Patrick wasn't sure if he was talking about dick or steak but either was a pleasant thought. Of course his suspicion only became worse when Pete began to giggle like a child. 'God he's just so fucking perfect', he thought. Whatever he had planned would be perfect.  
      When the botanic bored them half to death, Pete declared the second stop quite loudly, "let's take it to the skies, bitch!"

The aerospace museum was much more entertaining, but still, it lacked certain World War 2 veterans (the Howling Commandos of course). They walked around and ran into people and poles as they stared at the weightless fighter jets and spaceships that took over the ceiling. They entered the gift shop, where they bought each other little trinkets. Pete, however, included a pair of cheeky underwear that bore the phrase "out of this world" to Patrick's gift - "you have to wear these tonight."  
      "Pete I am not wearing space undies -" he tried to continue without giggling, "it says 'out of this world'."  
      "Dude, that's because your ass is out of this world!"  
      A mother pulled her child away from them and gave them a nasty look, not one that said 'don't talk about sex' but one that said 'keep your gay away from my son'. Pete rolled his eyes and Patrick awkwardly stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, face getting red, ears first.  
      "Your husband's cheating on you with an underage male prostitute," he called out to her, which ended their space trip abruptly. Security escorted them both out (it was harder to get Pete out of his fit, so Patrick had to calm him down and remind him today is a day of love not murder) - "even though both go hand in hand."  
      "Pete, no."  
      "Come on, man, don't defend her she's a bitch. It's 2017 get with the gay agenda already."  
      Patrick couldn't hold his giggle and began laughing, and seeing Patrick laugh made Pete laugh. "Dude", he swung himself in front of the pale guy, still a bit stained with shock, "I just really freaking love you, man. Like, you're the metal to my petal."  
      "The space to your alien?"  
      "Dude," he laughed full bodily, "you're the Finn to my Poe -"  
      They walked hand in hand, "Sam to your Dean?"  
      "Dude," Pete paused, but continued to walk, "you're the Navi to my Link. You're small, pale as fuck, and kinda annoying but I can't finish the quest without you."  
      Patrick scrunched up his face as he tried to hold his laugh back, "annoying?"  
      "Only a lil."  
      "How?"  
      "Well," Pete rummaged through the bag and pulled out the space undies, "you won't wear these."  
      "Dammit Pete -"  
      "Put em on now."  
      "No."  
      "Please?"  
      Patrick looked at Pete and snatched them out of his hand - "fine." He walked into the nearest store, changed in the bathroom, and handed Pete his original pair of underwear.  
      "Dude, this says 'Ellen'."  
      Patrick shifted, "just put them in the bag -"  
      "Why do they say Ellen though?"  
      "I went to a show of hers."  
      Pete looked at him and burst into a short fit of laughter, "dude that’s awesome! I'm taking these by the way."  
      "Fine."

The third venue was a bar, called Fyre Island. It had music, booze, a couple of needles, and drag queens. Pete took Patrick to a gay bar.  
      “Pete, why are we here?”  
      “Do you not like the queens? The ambiance? The gays?!”  
      Patrick nudged him, “I’m just confused as to why you –“  
      Before he could finish his sentence, tall, loud and proud queens held a cake, and sang Never Gonna Give You Up accapella version. Patrick buried his face in his hands and Pete couldn’t stop laughing. Patrick’s face was red and burning up, and then the cake was revealed.  
      “It’s a cock cake!”  
      Patrick groaned, “Pete I hate you!”  
      Between his fits of laughter, Pete managed to speak, “Patrick – I, I, I love, you!”  
      Patrick, embarrassed beyond comprehension, blew out the cock cake candles. The cake was thick, juicy, and yes, a bit red. It was passed around the bar and everyone enjoyed themselves.

They reached 'the End', or, as Pete called it while holding a snail, "snend."  
      They lied on the rim of the dry fountain, Patrick resting his head on Pete's stomach while between his legs. Pete lazily twirled his hair and they talked about the stars and how cool it'd be if they were in a band that exclusively performed in space. They stayed there until the security told them to leave, and they went to bed.  
      It was quiet, and Pete was the big spoon, "wanna do photosynthesis?"  
      Patrick didn't bother to open his eyes, "Pete it's four in the morning."  
      "You don't even know what I'm talking about."  
      He sighed, "what are you talking about?"  
      "Sex."  
      "I'm tired go to bed."  
      There was a shift on Pete's end, and it was silent again. Patrick couldn't sleep knowing he has no idea the relationship between photosynthesis and sex, "what did you mean when you said photosynthesis was sex?"  
      He felt Pete's smile against the back of his head, "photosynthesis is a process in which light is absorbed, and flower sugar is made."  
      "Flower sugar?"  
      "Yeah, like that whole process makes sugar or some shit. And the light is your dick and my ass will absorb it."  
      Patrick laughed loudly, and had a pillow thrown at him from his roommate. The pillow flipped off him and Pete snickered. He pulled him in closer, "photosynthesis is a young man's game anyway."  
      "Pete why are you like this?"  
      He sighed and kissed the back of his head, "love, and weed. Oh I was born this way. The whole," he waved his hand, "Lady Gaga bit, y'know."  
      "Mmhmm", Patrick responded more asleep then awake. Pete kissed him one last time, squeezed him hard, and they both drifted off to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bitch lmao remember when I said I was gonna post once a week? Me too. Also earthly elements are romantic


End file.
